


Her Greatest Struggle

by xxkiks



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Death, Dissociative Amnesia, F/M, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Mental Health Issues, Past Abortion, Stalking, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:27:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 13
Words: 39,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22453411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxkiks/pseuds/xxkiks
Summary: After finishing her last year at Hogwarts, Hermione tried living. But when her past caught up on her, she ran to save the lives of those she loved and her own. Tales with Dragons, swords and wands always has a happy ending, so why hasn't she found hers yet? Perhaps her journey is not yet complete.Will contain torture, anxiety, strong language. First fic, please be gentle.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/George Weasley
Comments: 5
Kudos: 29





	1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

**April 2001**

It had been like this for years. Three years to be exact... But she couldn’t forget. People had tried getting her to talk about it - Harry, Ginny and even Ron, but none of them had succeeded. Yes, they had heard her screams and pleas that day when Bellatrix had carved in her flesh. But none of them knew that they had only heard _one_ of the times she had tried to scream her lungs out, and not the rest. And they never would. She would make sure of that.

Those were her thoughts as she swam her laps in the pool in Germany. She had been moving around the world for the last couple of years, never settling down, because she knew... She knew that if she settled down, found love, let herself relax - that he would find her again... That he would take her and claim her, and… no. She wouldn't think like that, she could not. So, she ran. She ran, she hitchhiked, she took trains and any other form of transportation just to keep. On. Going. 

"We're closing up now!" a voice called. 

"Thanks!" she called back, slightly surprised. Damnit. she couldn't let herself lose track of time like that again. But the cold water was so soothing, and it gave her the opportunity to relax a bit. And she _did_ have her wards set up to alert her if she was in any danger. 

She had created the ward a couple of years ago because she was getting tired of being paranoid and always having to watch over her shoulder. Now she let her magic do its thing, and that too calmed her. She could feel the magic all around her at all times - sometimes stronger and sometimes weaker, but she always felt the distinct tingle at her fingertips. 

After a thorough shower she discreetly transfigured her bathing suit into her jeans once again, put on her clothes and left the area, only stopping to thank the guy at the reception for his hospitality. When she had arrived some hours earlier, she had tried to speak some German, asking if she could use their showers and then leave right after, explaining that she had no euros to pay for it. The guy had given her a bright smile and spoke back to her in English instead.

_“Since it is a Wednesday, and we have no classes you can use the showers and pools all you want.”_ he had said, _“You do not have to pay for it. I am the only one in today so no one will know. It is always so quiet here at this time of day, anyway.”_

And, oh boy, had he been right. There had been about a handful of people coming in and out of the place and that was it. Today had, overall, been quite a surprising day. If it hadn't been for the fact that she had to keep going, she might have actually wanted to stay. For the pools of course. It definitely had nothing to do with the smile the guy had given her when she walked out the doors - never to return again. 

...

“Finally, a proper meal!” she thought to herself. It had taken her about a week since she arrived in Europe to find someone who would exchange some of her galleons into euros, illegally. She had mostly moved around in Britain - and recently North America - for the years she had been on the run, always avoiding the magical populations as far as possible. But now she was back in Europe, she could finally sit down by a river with a plastic fork and paper plate filled to the rim with steaming hot schnitzel and potatoes with gravy. She was reminded of the first hot meal she had had with Ron and Harry when they arrived at the Burrow after the final battle. They had eaten so much food, they had had stomach aches for the next two days. This time though, she ate slowly and actually enjoyed the food she had found. 

Halfway through her food she felt her wards alert her. She knew that she did not look like herself anymore, so what had given her away? She had always been small and while on the run she had worked up a healthy amount of muscle. Her hair was cropped and blond, nothing like the waist-long, bushy brown hair she used to have.

She discreetly looked around, she always sat in strategic places if she had to come out of the shadows, and today was no exception. She was sitting at the bank of a river somewhere on the outskirts of Hamburg. There were restaurants around her with seating also by the river and a market not too far away. The perfect diversion came up as a group of teenagers with some sort of guide came bustling past her. She acted surprised and looked up like she hadn't really been hoping for a proper diversion to take in the surrounding people properly. What she saw made her warm all over, but also chilled her to the bone. How had he found her?

Some 10 meters away standing by street was Harry. Her first instinct was to run straight into his arms. To feel the sisterly love that she knew he had for her. To cry on his shoulder as she had done so many times before.

Before she knew it, she was standing up, her food completely forgotten. She took the first step towards him, but then she stopped. No! If Harry could find her, so could _he_. She turned around, and walked away from her best friend, knowing that it would be very long before she would see him and hug away her demons.

She must have imagined it, because she thought she heard a “Her-Hermione?” the second she turned away from him. But it was followed by a loud “HEY!”, and then she was running. Shit shit shit. She had to think fast. Damnit why hadn't she moved the direction she had come, at least that was she knew where she had been. She ran down the streets, behind cars, through alleys and finally when she had to stop, because she had to catch her breath, a big tree-filled, and luckily people-filled, park. She hurried through the first group and made for the trees behind them. The second she was behind the tree her wand was in her hand, transfiguring her clothes into a simple knee length dress, her rucksack was now a simple purse and her now black hair was piled on top of her head in a neat bun. While she had transfigured her appearance she had never stopped walking, although she had slowed down a bit. She couldn’t see Harry which was freaking her out, but she kept walking in the same direction, like she actually knew where she was going. By now she was fighting to get her breathing and raging panic-attack under control. _How had he found her?!_ She was now at the outskirts of the park, taking in her surroundings. Her gut and wards were telling her that there was still someone, somewhere near. But looking around, she couldn’t see anyone except for the group she had walked through. There was no one she knew. she was alone again, and finally, she could breath.

“Hermione, stop!” He was in front of her before she knew what was happening and she yelped in surprise. She stopped, turned away from his open arms and sad eyes, and walked back in another direction trying not to make a scene. She did _not_ need a scene right now. She needed to LEAVE!

“Hermione, I know. Please stop.” and she stopped. She stopped like she was standing at the edge of oblivion, and she would fall to her death if she continued. Oh, how she wanted to live.

“Harry, I love you, but I need to leave,” she said, still trying to control her panic attack. _Who else was here with him?_ “Are you here alone?”

“Ginny’s at the hotel taking a nap. I’m here alone. What is going _on_?”

“G-Ginny?” she hiccupped at the thought of another one of her friends, and turned around. 

“Yeah. we’re on our honeymoon.” Harry replied with the soft smile that she loved so much. “Merlin Hermione, we miss you so much. What’s going on with you?” 

“What do you know?” she asked. There wasn’t a thing in the world she didn’t want more, than to go with him, but she couldn’t let her friends get hurt because of her.

“I..” he was uncomfortable, she could tell. Rocking from one foot to the other, fidgeting with his sleeve and scratching his forehead like he had done so many times before. “I know you were tortured for the two weeks we were at the manor, until they figured out who I was. That enchantment you threw at me was bloody serious. I’ve never seen a curse take two full weeks to actually disappear without any use of potions. They never really did anything to Ron and I, so we figured that you were unharmed as well. I found out last year though, that we were so very wrong.” 

“Harry, I have to go. If you can find me, then so can he. I’m so sor..” she was caught off guard when she felt a body with warm arms embrace her. “Please don’t Hemione. I’m begging you. I’ll protect you. I’ll keep you safe. from anyone”. With that she started crying, crying like she hadn’t done for years. Crying for the love that she so desperately needed, and for the brother she cared about but had to leave behind again. 

And she felt it again. The tingle of her wards that she never took down. She looked up over Harry’s shoulder and saw three figures moving towards them from different parts of the park. It wouldn’t normally make her anxiety tingle. After all, they _were_ standing just by an entrance to the park. What _did_ alarm her was the wand she could make out at the edge of the sleeve at one of the guys. 

“Harry,” she said as quietly as possible without whispering, “We have three guys heading our way and you need to leave. Go. Get Ginny, and protect yourselves. I love you.” She shoved him out of the way. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him apparate after dropping some sort of item in the grass, and throwing a spell straight to the face of one of the guys. She ran for the trees once again, and apparated to the first thing that came to her mind. Big beautiful pine-trees, water and cabins. Once she arrived in the Swedish forest outside of Stockholm, she apparated immediately again to lose whoever would follow her. This time, ending up the mountains in Norway. 

...

A few days later she snatched up a copy of a newspaper and sat in her tent reading the latest news. She found out that a massive swamp had “grown out of the grass” in a park in Hamburg, Germany, and that authorities were investigating the possibility of a chemical attack. She smiled, figuring that George still had the WWW up and running. As sleep was taking over, she wondered if she would ever see him again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After her talk with Harry, Hermione contiues her life on the run. Things gets complicated though, when strangers appear near her, and she has to make some changes.

_You know the kind of darkness that you see when everything has been bright for a second, and then you feel blind. Right? But then your eyes get used to the darkness and slowly but surely you start seeing shapes, sizes and shadows. Yeah? You know that kind of darkness? This was worse. Here, you would not be able to see your hand outstretched in front of your face. She wouldn't be able to see the breath coming from her mouth when she exhaled and it was cold. But she knew that they were there. Both the mist, and her hand reaching out as far as it would come, hoping to scare away whatever (or whoever) was hiding in the dark._

_A laugh rang out somewhere to her right and she jumped as far away as her chain would let her._

_"Are you scared of the dark, girl?" it was the same voice every time. The same voice, with the same question. But… why was it the wrong question? He was supposed to ask about the-_

_"Repartum mortem!"._

She woke with a scream that she didn't even know she had inside of her. She desperately looked around the room she had slept in, or tried to at the very least. The light was still on, curtains still drawn shut, the door still closed and her wards were still up. As she finally let air fill her lungs, she let herself fall back on the bed and looked to the side at the bedside alarm clock. 5:43 am. Well there was no use trying to fall back asleep again anyway, so she just laid there, contemplating and staring at the ceiling. Was she afraid of the dark? Well yes, that was bloody obvious wasn't it? She had slept with a light on ever since they were taken to the manor.

She absolutely HATED tunnels, basements in general and every room in the world that had light-sensor on. Those things must have been created by Voldemort himself. Could she live with them? Yes. Did she want to? Nope, absolutely not. But it wasn't exactly like she had very much of a choice right now. It wasn't like she could just call Harry and pretend like she hadn't, just moments ago, made a promise to herself that she would never speak to him again. That she was absolutely fine with never hearing his stupid voice again, or see his smile, or dance around while he stepped on her toes only to apologize a second later.

Well, it was official. Hermione Jean Granger had lost her mind AND she was talking to herself. Again.

Fuck this shit, what was she going to do? She couldn't keep running for the rest of her life.

...

When the clock bipped 9 am she got up, showered and dressed, and packed her back before heading out.

By some chance, when she had apparated to Norway a week ago she had found a remote cabin. It was one of those kinds where you have the bedroom, livingroom and kitchen area all in one room, and then just a toilet and shower in another. She had stayed at a distance for a day, camping nearby and simply going back to check out the area making sure that there were no muggles nearby that her ward would not warn her about. When she went in, she found out that it had been used for rentin, and, if she could make a guess based on the stack of newspapers, it had not been used since 1992. It had been perfect, but now she had to leave.

This was why she was now hiking up the beautiful mountains. The last road sign she had seen had read 10 km to Namsskogan, and she had no idea where she was. She had only apparated up here because she was reminded of a skiing-vacation her parents had taken her on when she was 4. Well, she didn't actually remember anything except for sliding down a hill and falling on her head - but she had seen the picture. She couldn’t exactly remember where, but it didn’t matter anyway.

Death was such a stupid thing, until you had tried it more than 50 times. Death fucking sucked, and everyone had to experience it anyway. Voldemort probably created that as well. Well, she knew he hadn't, but in her isolated, tired mind, she found it kind of funny.

She suddenly realized that she had stopped walking and was now standing in the woods by a road, in the middle of nowhere, laughing. She didn't actually know how long she stood there laughing, and hugging herself because of the laugh-induced-stomach-ache. But when she had finished, she looked to the sky beyond the leaves and the pines and smiled. Life sucked, but she was hoping for better.

Without thinking she started walking again, but then suddenly came to a stop. She looked straight forward and stood still. Out of the corner of her eyes she thought she saw something moving the direction she had been moving before she had started laughing. She turned around looking for whatever it was that had she had seen. There was nothing there, just the trees. But she was sure she had seen someone. Perhaps it had been a muggle since her wards had not alerted her. Just to be safe, she decided to head east hoping that she could find a trail to follow further into the forest.

After a while she started feeling hungry and decided that the next clearing, she found would be her camp for the night. It must have been around 5 or 6 pm when she found a clearing. She decided that she would prefer to be just outside of it, rather than in the center where anyone would be able to see her. She dived into her backpack and pulled out her tent which she sat up quickly after so many years of experience. Next, she put up the muggle-repelling-wards and wards that would make her campsite soundproof and invisible to anyone outside.

God, she loved field rations right now. She had bought them in a scout- and military-shop back in Germany before she fled. It wasn't anything special, but at least it was better than not eating at all. She was sitting outside her tent with her wannabe-spaghetti Bolognaise, looking around the area when she saw someone. About a hundred meters away and nowhere near her camp, was a man walking with a fishing pole over his shoulder. Nothing special or alarming, and she had no wards alarming her either. It must have been a muggle. Or… Could her ward simple not reach that far? She definitely didn’t like that idea that her specialized wards didn’t work properly. She put her food down and pulled the wand from its holster around her thigh.

“Terrorem Amihostius” she said out loud. She stood up and looked around. She could see the border of the ward visibly now. “Well I guess that answers why nothing happened.” The man was walking just outside of her wards. What scared her was the fact that once she looked around, following the border all around her, and looked back at the man, he was looking straight at her.

“Hello? Is anyone there?” He was looking around him but kept looking back, directly into her eyes. “Can he see me? Who is he? Why does he look familiar? Shit.” She stepped to her right and relaxed the slightest, when he kept looking at the spot where she had just been. Then he straightened his back once again, perhaps just now realizing that his whole posture had changed. He shook his head and went on in the same direction he had been headed before.

“What the fuck just happened?” She looked at the border once again and decided that she had to make it larger. She had to do better, think smarter, be smarter. Otherwise she would lose everything. She was supposed to be the brightest witch of her age, and she was definitely smarter than _him_. She just had to prove it.

She sat for a moment thinking about how to make her spell better. Maxima perhaps?

“Terrorem Amihostius Maxima,” she said, and watched in surprise as it almost exploded, flaring out everywhere. Momentarily she was hit by the alert of her ward as it told her that there was someone nearby - which would fit perfectly with the man that had just left. But then the ward flew right back to where it started.

She hadn’t realized she had stopped breathing when the “explosion” had happened. Wow that was extreme, but informative. It would be good to use the Maxima-combination at times where her gut was telling her one thing, but her wards another. Hmm... What else could she do to improve it? It would quite a longshot. “Terrorem Amihostius Capitulems” Once again she saw her wards move, only this time it was slower and somehow steadier and more deliberate. It settled about 2 meters further out than it had started originally. For now, she was satisfied. Also, she wasn’t feeling anyone nearby. Her stomach growled at her. “Yeah, yeah. I haven’t forgotten about you. Don’t you worry.” Her stomach growled yet again, and she sat down to eat the rest of her food.

...

_She was standing in the middle of the room, spinning around. Was she dancing? It felt more like dancing than spinning anyway. She could feel the fabric swinging around her legs, in a way that she found strangely familiar. Had she been here before? People were appearing out of the darkness, and with them came the voices._

_Her head was spinning and she couldn’t focus. It felt like that one time that she had too much firewhiskey. She never liked that feeling. She liked to be in control of herself and her surroundings, and alcohol obviously didn’t help with that. But this was different. She could see a face that she knew she should recognize, but she didn’t know who they were or where she had seen them before. For example, there was a man who was quite tall and somewhat handsome, but who looked at her like he knew everything about her, while she clearly didn’t. It was infuriating and annoying, and she wanted to leave._

_“Dance with me, Hemione,” the man said, way too close to her._

_“No, thank you. I’m doing quite well by myself.” she said. Everything in her body told her to leave, but she couldn’t._

_“But you asked me to go with you, remember? You can’t tell me no. You owe me this.” he sneered at her, this time in a voice that left no room for refusal._

_Before she could move, he had placed one hand on her back, just low enough to be inappropriate, but not quite low enough for other people to notice, and then taken her hand in the other. He was leaning way too close to her and she couldn't stand it. Couldn’t stand the touch, or his smell, or the feel of his hand possessive and demanding on her back. She tried pushing him away but he wouldn’t let her go._

_“You’re mine! If I can’t have you, no one else will!”_

She was panting, willing away the tears that were threatening to spill down her flustered cheeks. In her conscious and alert state of mind, she knew the dress, she knew some of the people and she knew where she had been. But for all that she knew, there had been no violation of her person at Slughorn’s Christmas party in her 6th year. Sure, she had asked Cormac McLaggen to be her date to make Ron jealous, but they had NOT danced even once, and by no means had he demanded that she belonged to him or that she owed him something.

She knew that dream wasn’t always the reality, but she still found it very odd. What really filled her mind with millions of questions was, why dream-McLaggen reminded her so much of the man from yesterday - based on what she could see because of the distance anyway. It couldn't be him, could it? She didn't actually know what had happened to him. Mainly because she was so focused on finishing school and taking care of her own body and mind, during the aftermath of the war. Hadn't she seen something in the prophet about a Mrs. McLaggen? No, she had to be mistaken about the man being McLaggen.

"Who am I fucking kidding?" She knew damn well that she had to figure out who the man was, or it would drive her insane. Lack of information and knowledge would be her downfall one day, she was sure of it. But what if this person was important for her, to get out of the hell that she was living?

Before she got a chance to change her mind, she packed the tent and her belongings, opening a granola bar and started walking in the direction the man had left.

Harry would have been so proud of her spontaneity. At least, that was what she was telling herself.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione meets someone she used to know, but is it a friend or foe?

Her current goal was to get up the steep hill which felt more like a small mountain. Her legs were aching and her breath was coming out in small puffs, but she had to get to the top to get a look at her surroundings. She had been hiking for the entire day, and except for 2 small hiccups from her ward and sightings of a couple of muggles there had been no one anyway near her. Normally she would believe this many sightings of people to be weird, but after she left the road, she was not really that far from a town that would probably have _some_ magical inhabitants. At least that was what she was hoping, because why else would the wards have alerted her _thrice_ in two days? 

When she reached the top, she was surprised to say the least, to see the most amazing view - and a cabin spoiling it. Never had she been so relieved but annoyed at the same time. What the actual hell? No wonder the asshole had chosen this place for their cabin, but come _on_. 

She cast a disillusion spell on herself after changing her appearance - just in case. Then she sneaked behind the trees that were making out the edges of the lot, trying to get a look at the cabin and the person living there. from there she could see the smoke from the chimney, the light in the windows and hear the light whistling from what she believed to be a teapot. When she reached a point from where she could see the front door, her wards had alerted her several times like the person inside was moving around, just at the outskirts of her wards, so she hid behind a tree and stayed there. 

At some point she moved to some trees further away, and had climbed one of them, in the hope that she could sleep up there without the person noticing her if they were to leave the house at night. She took out some rope and a bag of her beloved field rations from her bag, that was laying in her lap, and tied herself and her bag to the tree. She warded the area around the tree as best she could do from where she was. After all the preparations for the night, she ate and used the last of the night to spy on the cabin. 

When she woke up the next morning, she felt more rested then she would have thought. She _had_ slept last night, but she was very much looking forward to sleeping in her sleeping bag again. She had the sun in her back and could see the light fog around her, making her think that it was probably still very early. Maybe 5 AM? She couldn’t tell. 

She pulled out a granola-bar and munched it slowly while reading a book. Even on the run, or hunting in this case, she never really had been one to put down a good book. It also helped to keep her mind occupied throughout the day, when she was just walking or sitting in some god-forsaken-haunted house, in the outskirts of a city where every person was just one among many. It was so easy to forget yourself and your self-worth, and yes, she was talking out of experience. 

… 

A couple of hours later the house began waking and she saw the door open, with the man from the day before, coming out. If people had been able to see her, they would know that she was surprised. She had not by any chance, thought that this would actually be the home of the man that she was looking for. Yes, she had been walking in his direction, yes, her wards had alerted her and she had been following his tracks.. But she had also had to redirect her route because of all the sightings of people yesterday. She had thought this was just another wizard or witch, and that she would have to keep on looking once she saw who inhabited the cabin. She had never been this lucky since the war had ended. 

Today, the man was clean shaven, and once again she found him so damn familiar.

She used the rest of the day being disillusioned, and keeping an eye on the man and his cabin trying to figure out who he was. He did nothing really out of the ordinary. He went into the woods to get firewood which he carried into his cabin, made what smelled like food a couple of times throughout the day, and then just stayed inside. The most exciting was the number of owls. She counted at least 6 different owls that came in and left. Maybe he was a writer? 

...

By nightfall she was once again sitting in a tree but this time it was much further from the house. If he was writing this many people, maybe he had a meeting the next day, and she did not want to intrude. While she was strapping herself to the tree it started raining, so she had to cover herself up. This was probably the worst thing about being outside all hours of the day; the bad weather. When she finally had herself covered up, she realized that everything around her was dead-quiet. Her ward was tingling, but the light of the twilight was making it hard to see anything from the trees besides the lighted cabin. From where she was she felt something move, disrupting the quietness of the forest. It wasn’t much, it could have been just the wind pushing around the leaves at the floor of the forest; But no, that would have been too easy. Her wards were still tingling and she could feel there was definitely someone down there, and whoever they were, they did not want to be seen. 

Discr ~~e~~ etly she pulled out her wand and removed what little rope she had bound her legs with, and focused her breathing. She knew she was disillusioned He should not be able to see nor hear her, she had made sure of that. But then again, this was the second time in two days, that this particular person had given her the feeling of being looked right through. Like she was being pulled apart, and he could see every little secret that she had ever had. Her biggest fears and that made her feel absolutely, terribly naked. 

She had her eyes focused on the shadow moving around in the dying daylight, and her years of nocturnal mischief at Hogwarts was definitely helping her right now. All those times had taught her how to use her eyesight in the best possible way, on any and every occasion. But still, right now the darkness was making it somewhat difficult for her. Obviously, this being his home, he knew the woods very well. 

But then suddenly, he stopped in the middle of a small clearing. He looked around, and then as if deciding that is was the most boring round of tag ever, he walked back into his cabin. She didn’t see anything more of him that night, and she was anxious as hell. 

... 

The next 2 days went on like that. Her following his every step, and him doing nothing of importance. So, she decided to leave. 

When she woke up early on the fourth day, she grabbed her back and left the woods by the cabin. What she had not expected though, was to find the very same man that she had been stalking for det past 3 days, just in front of her. 

“Who are you, and why are you here?” He said with his wand pointed straight at her chest. 

That voice… 

“McLaggen?” She asked. She could see the wheels turning in his head, as he furrowed his brows and looked suspiciously at her. 

“I am only going to ask you once more. Who are you, and why are you here?” 

By then she realized that she did not look like her normal self, so naturally he would not know who she was. slowly she lifted her wand to her head, and moved the one down her body, never leaving his eyes as her appearance changed. 

“Her-Hermione? What the hell are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be in London making laws or something clever, right now?” He asked, lowering his wand and walking towards her. 

“Yeah… Well, I...” didn’t he know? “I hated all of that famous nonsense that the ministry was making all of us do after the war. So, Harry suggested that I left for a while. To go and ‘ _enjoy adulthood’_ I think was his words. So here I am, hiking at Merlin-knows-what-time in the morning trying to wake my limbs.” She said, ending her lie with a shrug. If he really didn’t know that she was reported missing all over magical Britain, she was not planning on giving him the information. 

“Oh, sure. Have you seen anyone else around here? I’ve had this uncomfortable feeling of being watched these last couple of days, but there’s never anyone around once a go out to check. It’s rather unnerving, I think.” 

“Sorry, no. you’re actually the first person I’ve seen in about a week and a half, I think. That’s why I chose to come up here. It’s so quiet.” She said, looking around as if enjoying the forest and its sounds a little bit more than normal. 

“Yeah, I know. That’s why I moved up here.” he looked as if he was talking to himself, but then shook his head as if finally waking up. “Would you like to come in for breakfast? It’s too cold to be standing out here at 4:30 in the morning anyway.” 

“S-sure, thanks,” she said, slowly following him. 

... 

That day had felt like some sort of turning point for her. They had eaten, talked, laughed and relaxed. It had ended out with her feeling so comfortable in his presence (how, she really had no idea), and therefore she had chosen to stay with him for some time. 

One particular morning she was sitting on the porch with a mug of tea when he came out and sat beside her. 

“So, I was thinking about something the other day... “ He said, before taking a sip of his own mug, and placing a plate of bread rolls between them on the floor. 

“Yeah?” 

“Some friends of mine is going on a fishing trip down here and asked if they could sleep here while they go fishing. So, I was wondering if maybe you would want some more company once you planned on heading out again, anyway?” he said, while looking down his mug, like it would somehow swallow him whole. “I mean.. I don’t actually know where you’re going.. But it’s no fun walking alone, right? and I know these mountains!”

They had become something that she would have never thought possible back in their school days, friends. As some point over the last month she had started liking his presence, and looking forward to their friendly banters and conversations. He was still the typical jock with a severe lack of intelligence and an inability to talk to other people without sounding like a snop... But for some reason, she had found his company comfortable. Perhaps it was simply because of her previous lack of human contact, that made him the obvious choice. 

“Sure!” she smiled at him, “When will they arrive? I was actually thinking about leaving in a couple of days, even though I really like staying here. And the company isn’t bad either.” 

For a second she thought he looked surprised, but then it was gone and he smiled back at her. “They plan on coming in about a week, so if we leave in a few days that would work perfectly. I’ll just owl them later.” He said, and then went back inside.

“Sure.” She muttered. 

That was a really strange way to start a day, and she didn’t know how to feel about it. He had been sending her strange looks for the past couple of days, that she didn’t know what to make of. Normally, ‘strange looks’ would mean something like.. Complicated love, or hidden hatred or something like that. But this was she couldn’t make out. She just knew it had nothing to day with love, but more like.. Pity? Why would he feel pity for her when he obviously had no idea of why she was even there? 

They had talked a little about everything that had happened after the way, and he seemed to believe all of her lies. She had always been a good liar since people never questioned ‘the good girl’ and a _good girl_ obviously didn’t know how to lie, like it was some kind of law of nature. She snorted. Fuck the good girl. She was never going back there, that was certain. 

“Did you say something?” Cormac popped his head out of the open door. 

“Nope. Just thought of something stupid. Never mind.” She smiled at him. 

…

The day went on to be more and more weird. multiple times throughout the day she felt her wards tingle in directions that should not react. Cormac was sending the double amount of owl that he normally did, and she was beginning to feel on edge. 

“What are you doing?” She asked Cormac when he started writing yet another letter. She must have taken him by surprise, because he spilled ink all over the table. 

“Oh! Ehh.. I’m just writing my sister. Letting her know that I’m leaving the cabin for some time and that I might not be so easy to communicate with.” He said.

“You have a sister?” 

“Yeah. I don’t really talk about her. She’s a squib.” He shrugged.

“Huh. Okay.” She said, and sat down on the couch. Hadn’t there been some giant article in the prophet about ‘a sole heir to the McLaggen fortune’ at some point? “Hey Cormac, what happened to Maria?” 

Silence. Complete and utter, silence. 

“Maria?” 

“Yes, Maria. Wasn’t that the name of that girl you were married to? Or has my memory finally left me alone?” 

“Oh. Maria.” You would probably be able to hear a pin drop to the floor. “Well, she didn’t approve of my friends back then, and couldn’t provide the heir as was promised when our marriage was planned, so she left. Which is also why I live here.” He was fidgeting. But then again, who wouldn’t when one was talking about their divorce? 

“Well okay. Sorry for asking.”

She could think of few times during her time away from Britain, that she really wanted to go home. Sure, she liked talking to Cormac, but she really missed her (real) friends. 

“What are you thinking about? you look so sad.” he asked. 

“Harry. I was just wondering what he would be doing right now. I haven’t talked to him in a while.” 

“Why haven’t you?” He was watching her, and it made her uncomfortable. 

“Well.. I didn’t leave in a particularly good way, and we haven’t talked since.” She had to get out of this conversation, and fast. “How do you feel about leaving tomorrow, or the day after?” 

“uh...” Thank fucking god, she had caught him off guard. “The day after tomorrow would be better. That way I can make sure everything is set for my friends’ stay here.” 

“Awesome. I think I’ll make dinner tonight, is that alright with you?” 

“Umm, sure. That’s fine.” 


	4. Chapter 4

Harry sat behind his desk with his eyes closed, listening. He hadn’t been head of the auror department for long yet he was still as vigilant as ever. He could hear the bustling of chairs in the surrounding offices and the voices out in the hallway. Having his own office really had its benefits - most of them being, that he had peace and could let his mind run free without being interrupted, when needed. This was one of those times. 

_Where are you?_

He opened his eyes and stood up, walking towards the opposite part of his office where a large noticeboard was hanging. Normally on such notice boards one would find multiple pictures of criminals on the run, pictures and notes from loved ones or even ideas for criminal thrillers or horror stories. He had seen some shit by now. On this particular board though was a world map, notes, receipts and lots and lots of pictures. 

The map had pins in different locations from which different colored threads where leading to pictures, notes or whatever could explain the pin. Green thread was confirmed sighting, yellow was unconfirmed sighting and finally was the red thread. The read one pointed out a location where an attack on a muggle or magical person has happened, when there had also been a sighting - confirmed or not. 

It looked like the greatest manhunt of all times, and it wasn’t wrong. Because they had been hunting, stalking, searching, chasing and doing whatever was in the power of the-boy-who-lived, and the entire magical dimension (whether they knew it or not), to find Hermione Granger. 

It had been a month since he had found her in Hamburg, and he was desperate. Now more than ever. She had done well to cover her tracks for the past 6 months and yet he had stumbled her by accident. Every time he had found a track, whether it be in New York, Liverpool, Montreal or some godforsaken city in the outskirts of Wyoming, it was always something small. It seemed that the only thing leaf behind by her was obliviated muggles and a small trace of magic. Magic that only he could connect to her. Once she had gone back to Hogwarts to finish her school, they had found out that they could almost always feel each other. Hermione of course had gone straight to the library within her first week back at school, and had studied mercilessly until she had a result that she did approve of. 

It seemed, that they were soulmates, but not the kind that one would normally link to the word. In the muggle world people knew of only one kind of soulmate, being the opposite part of one's heart and the perfect match for that particular person. If found, it would almost always lead to some kind of romance as the persons would not be able to stay away from one another.. In the magical world though there was a chance that a person could have _two_ soulmates. One that your heart belongs to just as the muggles had, but also one that your magic is compatible with; a “mate for the soul”. This was who they were. Their magic knew that they belonged to some way, and for them it was their brotherly-sisterly feeling. Just the thought of doing anything sexual or romantical with her made him uncomfortable. 

His heart had already found its other half in Ginny, and he hoped for the day that Hermione would find the person that her heart had chosen for her when she was born. He wanted to feel her happiness through their bond. But right now, he needed to find her and get her out of the hell she was trapped in. He needed to save her. 

A knock drew him out of his thoughts, “Come in”, he called back. 

In stepped Ron and Neville, both dressed in auror robes. They nodded at Harry and sat down in the two chairs waiting for them, in front of Harry. 

“What’s up Harry? Anything new for the lot outside?” Neville asked. He and Ron had helped looking for Hermione ever since she disappeared. They missed her just as much as Harry did, but they knew that they would never know exactly how he felt. 

“We know that once she left Hamburg she went to the outskirts of Stockholm, but then there’s nothing. But I still feel like we should be looking somewhere up here..” He waved his hand over Scandinavia, “But I’m not sure though. Something feels wrong and I don’t know if it’s the location or if something is happening to her. It’s driving me slightly insane.” 

They looked closer at the northern European area noting that there had been no sightings of her. 

“She’s probably disguised as she always is. Why does she have to be so brilliant at everything she does? It makes it impossible to find her.” Ron said, chuckling a bit at the last part. They knew damn well that there was a reason that she hadn’t been caught yet. She was a fucking mastermind who was always thinking 5 steps ahead. She would love Violet once they would get a chance to meet, he just knew it. They both had brilliant minds and knew how to handle him when he was acting like a bitch. 

“‘Course she is. I just wish we knew who she is running from.” Neville said. He also had scars from the war, but he at least had a chance at a normal life. 

“Yeah, me too. Let’s go share some information, shall we?” Harry said, and left the room without waiting for the others to answer. He walked to the main room of the department, where a mass of about 50 aurors, ministry-employees and journalists were waiting for a briefing. Right away he spotted Ginny, standing to one of the sides and giving him an encouraging smile. He nodded at her, and stepped onto the podium. 

“Welcome back everyone, let’s get started.” He cleared his throat and continued. ”Based on intern sources we believe that Hermione is to be found somewhere in the Danish-, Swedish- or Norwegian areas. She is quite possibly still disguised so we have to be aware of any female looking like they don’t belong there. There is the possibility though, that she is so far out in the bush that she does now feel the need to disguise herself.” 

There was some shuffling among the crowd. He knew that it gave them literally nothing to work with, but some hands still flew into the air with questions. The enthusiasm reminded him of Hermione in class. 

“Blond in the middle, what is your question?” 

“Do we know anything about why she is running?” She asked. She must be a new one, as this information had been given multiple times before. 

“What we know is that she was tortured so extremely at the end of the war, that it almost killed her both mentally and physically.” She blondes face turned to ash as this point. “During the summer and throughout the next year she talked to several muggle psychologists and healers trying to heal properly.” At this point Harry stopped talking and took a deep breath. Something was so terribly wrong, but he had to tell them everything.

“Once she finished her newts, she got a job here in the ministry in the department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. We have evidence that shows that she was stalked quite excessively. We have notes asking her why she went to a particular bakery on a curtain time and date, telling her that she would never get away, that the person would kill her, kill us, etc. etc. We have about 1000 of these, send in just under 2 weeks until she disappeared. One thing that we _do_ know though, is that the notes are all written by the same person and that he is working alone.” Harry took the time to look around at the faces, inspecting the reactions and filing them away until further use. 

“We believe the suspect is male, based on the handwriting and some of the details in the letters. We can say for certain that he was present at least some of the time, while we were held captive at Malfoy manor in April of 1998. Therefore, we also think that he was a death eater who was probably in Voldy’s inner circle or close to. There is also the possibility that it was never released to the public that he was a death eater, when the war ended. You all know who the obvious choices may be,” At this he pointed at the far wall which had posters of all war criminals that was not yet accounted for. “but we still don’t know if there are anyone out there who’s not as obvious. Good luck on your searches, and remember to always be vigilant.” At this, he stepped down and walked back to his office flanked by Ron, Neville and Ginny. 

“Do you think you’ll get a catch?” Ginny asked once they got inside and she had silenced the room. 

“I don’t know. I saw a few new people out there but they were mostly the same as always.” Harry answered while taking her in his arm to sooth her. Since Ginny and Hermione had finished their newts at the same time and had shared dormitory, that had chosen to share an apartment afterwards. That, unfortunately, meant that Ginny had also experienced some stalking, uncomfortable letters and break-ins at their flat. She had been frightened half to death when one day Hermione had left for work but never returned. Upon further inspection of her room, Ginny had found a letter on the bed saying that she was sorry, and that she had to go. That was all. Ginny had been both furious as the extreme lack of information, but also scared for her friend. She had moved in with Harry and Ron the following day. “We’ll get her home Gin. I promise.” 

“I Know, love. I know.” 

“I don’t like that woman though. Why come to the briefing, and then having no idea what it’s about? Do you know who it was?” Harry asked. 

“It’s Sophie Creevey. Dennis and Colin’s sister. She graduated Hogwarts last summer just as Colin would have.” Ginny said. 

“They had a sister?” Ron said Dumbfounded. 

“Yeah,” Ginny said, “Colin and her were twins. She was sorted into Ravenclaw I think.. Sweet girl really.”

“Huh. So, she’s alright?” Harry asked, looking at Ginny liking she could give him some kind of miracle. 

“I think so. But I really wouldn’t know. We didn’t have any classes together as she was a year below me.” Ginny said, and gave Harry a chaste kiss. “I have to get to training. Dinner at 7?” 

“Dinner at 7. see you.” He confirmed and Ginny left. 

Shortly after, the rest of the boys followed. But instead of heading to the apparationpoint, they went to join the rest of the search party in finding their friend.


	5. Chapter 5

**May 2001**

From the moment she opened her eyes that morning, she knew what day it was. It was like a Monday; a day that kept on giving her bullshit every second of the day. An eternal Monday. May 2nd. She had only experienced two of these days previously, as this was only the third celebration day of the 2nd wizarding war, yet it still fucked her up. Her last year at Hogwarts had been an absolute nightmare; She hadn’t slept the night before because of night terrors, had a slight fever, her hair looked like it had been to war itself, and people kept looking at her like they were waiting for her to explode. What kind of person did they think she was? Like that wasn’t enough, her teachers were annoying like never before, trying to push all of them to their limits for their final exams.   
  


And now Cormac Mc-fucking-Laggen would not, for the life of her, stop staring at her.  
  


“ _What?!_ ” She snapped at him.   
  


“No-nothing.” He stammered. “I just thought you looked like someone in need of a friend.” 

  
“What makes you think that?”   
  


They had been hiking for the past 3 days, camping in the same tent (and room) every night. That was bound to bring some people closer to one another. They had been moving north as best they could, without seeing much civilization. She thought it odd that when she was by herself, she kept seeing people, yet here there were no one. Not anyone besides themselves for her wards to pick up on. Maybe he was just better at guiding then she was?   
  


“Look, I know we don’t know each other that well, or ever have. But I’m still worried about you. No one deserves to be alone with one’s thoughts when they cause you damage.”  
  


She crossed her arms, and raised an eyebrow while maintaining eye-contact. He may be friend-like, but she was getting her questions answered one way or another.   
  


“Because, I have noticed that over the past couple of days you have become snappier than normally, more anxious and paranoid, and you keep looking at the sky like you’re waiting for something. But I don’t know what that should be. And yes, I _do_ know what day it is today, before you insist on telling me. Therefore, and I repeat; you looked like someone in need of a friend, and be some mysterious chance, you have one _right here_. Use it darling.” Then he turned towards the firepit and put a loaf of bread on a rock in the fire, for it to toast a bit.   
  


Hermione sat silently for a couple of minutes, taking in what he had just told her. Obviously, he felt that they were friends, which they might be to some extent. The only issue was that she did not trust him anymore. She knew that he had been lying to her, particularly about Maria and why he was stashed away in the mountains in Norway. She knew, that he knew, why she was _not_ in Britain right now, living the perfect life as the third part of the golden trio. Also, she _knew_ that he was bad news. She had to get out of there, and with a good excuse.   
  


“Do you know this area well, Cormac? You seem to know your way around here.” She asked.   
  


“Yeah, I do. A friend of mine owns a cabin a few kilometers away from here, which is where we are heading. I thought we could get a good night's sleep before hitting the road again.” He asked. “Why?”   
  


“Is there a convenience-store somewhere around?”   
  


“uhhh…..” He looked like she had just asked him what the speed of light was. “I think so. Do you need anything? I might have something packed.”  
  


“Yeah, I don’t think you do. I need lady-products.” She looked away, too embarrassed to keep eye contact. She had tried stocking up on everything of that kind when she went into a city but she hadn’t had the chance when she was in Hamburg, and by now she was running low. Aaaaand she had gotten her period that morning. It had to be murphy’s law or whatever. Because _bloody hell_ , how she could not wait for this day to end.   
  


“It’ll be a small detour, but we can go there when we’ve finished here. I need to get some things anyway.” He said, sitting down beside her and giving her some buttered bread and a mug of coffee.   
  


“Thank you.” She said gratefully and dug into her breakfast.  
  


.  
  
  


By the time they had found and left the store they had everything they needed including everything for the human (and female) body to feel fresh on the go, enough snacks and drinks to last both of them for months and lots of other stuff. They had moved a fair way away from the town already and were enjoying nature while on their way.   
  


“Did you see the look of the lady when we went up to pay?” She said, laughing.   
  


“Yeah!” He laughed, “It was like we were trying to buy the whole store including the management.” He finished.  
  


“I might have, if only they would give the store a renovation. I swear those floors belonged back in the 80’s.” She said, it had been nice to see some civilization again after so long, and she felt refreshed knowing that they were on their way to a cabin with a proper bed, and a shower.   
  


“The guys said they left us a surprise back in the cabin, before they left. I keep trying to think of what it might be.” He said, strapping his backpack to his back.   
  


“What?” She stopped, “What guys?”   
  


“The guys who are using my cabin. This is one of my friends’ cabin . What’s the matter? Come on, we’re almost there.  
  


“Didn’t you say they were from Britain?” Something didn’t add up, and she was not moving until she got answers.   
  


“Well they are, but one of them moved up here about the same time that I did.” He was fidgeting. That was never a good sign.   
  


“Who is it?”   
  


“Come on, we’ll talk when we walk. It looks like it’ll rain any minute.” He pulled his hood up and looked to the sky.   
  


“No. Who is your friend?” She didn’t care about the rain right now. She knew how to cast a drying spell and she damn well knew how to make her clothing water-repellent.   
  


He looked at her like she had smacked him on the head.   
  


“Who?” She said Again. “Last chance, or I’m leaving.” She was looking him dead in the eye, and had taken a hold of her wand that was hidden in her sleeve. Thank merlin that her sleeves were too long.   
  


“Flora. Her name is Flora.” He said, looking at his feet.   
  


“Flora? And flora likes fishing in the Norwegian mountains? Muggleborn?” The questions were forming so fast she was having difficulties stopping them from flowing. Who was she? Did she know her? Why was he keeping her a secret? Why was he rushing her?   
  


_LEAVE!  
  
_

“Yes, she does. Why are you like this? Don’t you trust me?”   
  


_NO!_ “Of course, I do, but you’re making it difficult when you’re avoiding topics and rushing on me be saying that it will rain, when the sky is fucking blue!” She finished the last part with her hand pointing to the clear blue sky. “What aren’t you telling me?”  
  


“Nothing! I haven't lied to you! Flora is my best friend and she owns the cabin with her husband, and they love fishing which is why they live there!” He had thrown his hands out to the sides and was looking at her like they were having a fight that was clearly not his fault. “By my cabin you can fish Tusk and Haddock, and they can’t catch those this far north. We tend to switch cabins from time to time. Now can we go? I’m getting hungry.”   
  


She kept looking at him trying to decipher the lies from truth, but it was a losing game. she closed her eyes and rubbed at her temples. She could feel her world spiraling out of control. She could feel her magic tingling all around her making her on edge, she could feel the electricity going through her and making her hair pop out in places it shouldn't. She was pissed, she was terrified and her anxiety was hitting her so hard that she had almost forgotten that it existed.   
  


“Did he send you?” She whispered.   
  


“Come again?” He said, blinking quickly as he was trying to understand the sudden change.   
  


With her wand still hidden up her sleeve, she removed her hands from her face and looked at him with a look that might have killed. “Did he send you?”   
  


“Who? Harry? Ron?” He asked, looking at her like he hadn’t just seen her bare soul, “I haven’t spoken to any of them since.. Before the war, I think.”   
  


Once again, she didn’t say a word, and just looked at him. It must have been five or ten minutes before she walked past him; “let’s get to that damn cabin before I change my bloody mind.”   
  


If he thought that she was running from the guys… Maybe it was for the best? He didn’t sound like he knew anything of importance. But she still couldn’t shake the feeling that he knew more than he let on. Hell, this was the reason why she hadn’t trusted anyone with the fact that she had a stalker. Or the fact that she knew exactly who it was. Already before Hogwarts she had gotten used to not trusting people, only letting a few people close enough. She had been absolutely fine with her books and her selected few, until she had to run from it all. She _knew_ she hadn’t told Cormac anything vital, merely chatting about old times, about him or telling the same old lies when he was questioning her. _no, people just never liked me. Yeah, it’s fine, I like the silence anyway. Yeah, I dated a muggle guy shortly. Tense? I don’t know what you’re talking about. No, I’m quite good, thank you. People were so stupid sometimes._ It had always worked.   
  


“Are you sure you’re okay? What’s going on?” Cormac asked, concern thick in his voice.   
  


“I’m fine,” She said, stopping mid-sentence when a cabin came into view and her wards tingled. She looked around, but couldn’t see anyone. “Didn’t you say we had the cabin to ourselves?”   
  


At first, the cabin looked like nothing out of the ordinary. It was made of tree-logs and had a ladder which gave access to the roof and the chimney. From this distance she could see that parts of the roof and the walls had patches of moss and bushes crawling up the sides, encasing the cabin in the surrounding nature. It almost looked like the building had been made by nature, as if it had been a part of the ground itself and had simply risen one day, like a tree in a forest growing to get to the sun. It was beautiful.   
  


“Yeah, we do. Why?” He walked past her towards the cabin, drawing her attention back to her.   
  


“Nothing… Just a feeling.” Her nerves were on edge. It was one thing sensing that someone was nearby and being able to see them. But knowing they were there, and then **not** seeing them, was freaking her out.   
  


“A feeling? like a tingle at your fingers perhaps?” He looked at her with a crooked smile.   
  


“Yes. how did you know?” She looked at him. Magic tingling through her and readying her a fight-or-flight situation. How in the bloody hell did he know about her wards?   
  


“It’s just the wards of the cabin. It’s muggle-repelling, and has this weird tingling feeling. The longer you stay here the more you will feel it, until at last your body gets used to it and just… Disappears.” He said the last part with a shrug of his shoulders, and took out his wand which he waved in a peculiar motion that she did not recognize. Suddenly he put down his wand, put it in his pocket and went up to the house, motioning for her to follow.   
  


So she did, being more aware of her surroundings than she had ever been.


	6. Chapter 6

An hour after their arrival at the cabin she was sitting on the couch with her arms wrapped around her legs, that was pulled up to her chin. Cormac was lying on the other couch, snoozing away, and had been for the past 30 minutes. Her body was tingling uncomfortably, she was on edge and she could not, for the life of her, relax. There was definitely someone somewhere around here, and she couldn’t just sit around waiting for something to happen. Because something bad would happen - it always did. Murphy’s law and all. ruddy bullshit.   


With one last glance at Cormac she stood as silently as possible from the couch, and looked around. He had given her a tour when they arrived, so she knew her way around the cabin already. Right now, they were in the main room which had a dining-area, an open kitchen, the two couches that she and Cormac had occupied and a large fireplace. There was also a bathroom, and a combined study and bedroom. She slipped out of the living-room and into the bedroom intending to do some investigation. But what was she expecting to find? She had this feeling like she was supposed to know who this Flora was, but she had absolutely no idea. She knew she had some of these “holes” in her memories, after the manor there were some things that had slipped her mind over time. The only problem was, that she didn’t know what it was. She still had this feeling though, that something had happened there that only her attacker would know about, but she couldn’t very well just ask him. The further away from him she could get, the better.   
  


But back to the main question of what she was expecting. Nothing. She was expecting a room as void of emotion and love as the rest of the house had been. She was hoping though, that she was mistaken and that she would find a lot of pictures or photo-albums filled to the brim, owl-treats, ink spot on the table, ANYTHING! Anything to prove her wrong. She had never wanted to be proven so wrong, in her entire life.   
  


Inside the study-bedroom there was a bed, a fireplace, a minor walk-in-closet and a table with a chair that looked more uncomfortable than what should be allowed. She started out with checking the drawers in the table and found nothing except for pens, ink and paper. How can a house be so impersonal? there were no signs of anyone having lived here within the past 6 months! The only thing telling her that someone had actually stayed here, was that the cabin was clean and already warm at their arrival. With a frown she walked away from the table and towards the closet. There had to be clothes in there, if someone was living here. Right?   
  


She opened the door and found it completely empty. She had deeply hoped that it was just her paranoia and trust-issues that made her this anxious, but she had been right! There was no one living here! Cormac had said that _“Flora”_ and her husband were living here full-time and then went down to his cabin to fish, yet this house was so cold and emotionless it might as well have been used for rental. It reminded her an awful lot about the first house she had occupied when she arrived in Norway. Perhaps she could find something that pointed towards who the actual owner of this place was. Maybe a sticker on a window, or a flyer left behind somewhere.   
  


_Push Cormac for answers!_   
  


What? Are you _insane_? Was she being delusional? Usually her mind was on _her_ side. Bloody hell. If she asked Cormac for answers, he would instantly know that there was more wrong, then just her being “emotional”. “Fuck, Fuck, Fuck,” She whispered repeatedly while pressing her hands to her head and pulled a little at her hair, like the pain would somehow help her think better and -  
  


A loud grunt from the Livingroom pulled her out of her thoughts, and she hurried from the closet. Before she reached the living-room she took a deep breath, trying to control her emotions that were running as high as ever. She did not need to show the panic attack that was slowly but surely, crawling in on her.  
  


She edged herself out of the room, her eyes on the back of Cormac’s head, trying to figure out if he was actually awake or not. As silently as she could, she walked past the couch towards her own couch and sat down in the same position she had had before. Her heart was beating like hell, but she had finally managed to get her breathing under control.   
  


“You said yes!” Cormac said out loud and turned his back to her on the sofa, now shoving his face into the pillow that he had rested his head on previously. Right now, she didn’t even care who had said yes at some point. She had to get out of there, and fast.   
  


She put on her boots and jacket, zipping it up as slowly and silently as she could. If he woke up now, what was she supposed to tell him? That she was bored and wanted to check out the area around the cabin? It sounded like a stupid excuse. At least she hadn’t picked up her backpack, because by then it would be too late with an excuse. Could she just tell him that she was leaving him and the cabin, or would he freak?   
  


_You’re mine! If I can’t have you, no one else will!  
  
_

Her dream popped into her mind and her eyes widened in horror. She still knew that he had never uttered those words to her, but she also knew that she would never give him to chance to. She took out her wand, picked up her backpack and left the cabin with one more look in his direction. He had lied to her, and on multiple occasions. She knew that he was trying to manipulate her and some of her decisions, and he was by far the only person who had tried to do so since she had arrived in the magical world. Fuck him and his sick mind.   
  


She slowly closed the door and moved away from the cabin. Which way should she go? The sun was behind her, so that had to be west.. She decided to walk left, towards north. She could still feel her ward which meant that there were still people nearby. Hopefully, where she was going her wards would be quiet. She still found it weird how he had known that she felt a tingling in her body by her wards, and had then blamed it on the muggle-repelling wards. She damn well knew what they felt like, and it was NOT a tingling. She suddenly stopped, color draining from her face. He knew about her wards! Had he known since she saw him at her campsite? But her ward was supposed to be invisible and unknown to anyone, but her.   
  


She walked some more but suddenly yelped when she lost her footing and fell - then all was black.   
  


. 

_What was that smell? It smelled divine. Like pancakes, and Waffles, and scrambled eggs on toast.  
  
_

_“Morning gorgeous,” a voice said behind her. She stretched her aching body and took a moment to figure out where she was. She was in a soft bed, covered in a duvet and she could smell breakfast. And gunpowder and apples. Mmh, she didn’t want to wake up. Then she felt something tickle her outer thigh, ”No! Please George, please stop!” she giggled, turning her head and capturing his lips with hers, while trying to remove his hands from her body. “Please, I’m not nearly as alive, as I need to be for that!” She released his lips and opened her eyes, looking into his blue ones.  
  
_

_“I have been waiting for the past 30 minutes for you to wake up darling, I’m not waiting another! Come on up, I made you breakfast - and before you ask, yes, I did make coffee.” He winked at her and gave her another peck on the lips before leaving the room.  
  
_

_“What time is it?” She called after him, while putting on her jeans and hoodie that she disposed of on the floor last night.  
  
_

_“Just before 10. I would have let you sleep in, if it wasn’t because we have to be at the Burrow in an hour.” She could hear him scrambling in the kitchen putting out plates.  
  
_

_A few minutes later she left the bathroom and went to join George in the Kitchen. “It smells amazing, babe.” She sat down and was welcomed by a large cup of coffee. She had always hated the tar-like drink, but it was the one and only thing that had help her through the past 3 years’ worth of exams, and she was forever grateful. By now, it was the one thing she needed every morning to wake up. And this fantastic man before her, knew it.  
_ _“Hermione?” She looked up, blinking her eyes at him to acknowledge that she was hearing him, even though she was sipping her coffee.  
  
_

_“I think I’m in love with you.”  
  
_

.

She woke suddenly with a raging headache on the cold ground. This was nothing like George’s bed. she sighed looking around, “Lumos” she whispered, and her wand lit up. How she had managed to keep it in her hand she really had no idea.   
  


She was in some kind of tunnel. Had the ground caved in under her? Slowly she stood up and looked around. She felt so disoriented and confused that she didn’t know which was what. She tried looking up through the whole that she had fallen, and noted that it was completely dark. Great. And her ward was still flaring. Bloody great, could this get any worse? She decided to go right.   
  


After walking for a few minutes, she saw some light at the end of the tunnel. She quickly nox’d her wand and moved slowly towards the light. When she entered, she noted that it looked like some kind of remodeled shed which in itself wasn’t creepy at all. What was scary as fucking hell was the fact that it was underground, and that her face was hanging EVERYWHERE. It was pictures of her Hogwarts-time, of her with Harry and Ron, her with George, at work, on the run. She hadn’t even seen this much pictures at her parents’ house before she erased their memories. What the hell was going on?! Her curiosity kicked in and she made the mistake of walking further into the room. Here she saw that there was a map underneath all of the pictures, and that it had strings attached. The blood drained from her entire body as her body stood as petrified. Someone was keeping taps on her every move.   
  


Beside the map with all the pictures was a different kind of collection, that she wasn’t surprised to see hanging there, once she took a second to think about it. The pictures were of her parents’ house in Australia, and pictures of her parent doing everyday stuff like shopping and coming to and from work. They had obviously been following them everywhere. She was hit by a sudden realization as she thought back to the day, she had gone to Australia to restore their memories.  
  


_It was a wonderful day today, and she was looking forward to seeing her parents again. Harry had helped her locate them after the war, and today was the day. She was going to talk to them and restore their memories of her, hoping that they would understand why she did as she did. Her stomach clenched painfully by the realization that they might not forgive her for her actions. She had tried not to think about it, but right now it hit her like a wrecking ball. What was she supposed to do? Let them stay and hope that the death eaters wouldn’t know of their location, while they went about with their lives? They wouldn’t have lived through the war, and everybody knew that.  
  
_

_She walked up to the beautiful beach house and knocked on the door. While she waited, she looked out on the beach and the landscape. Maybe this could be her escape, if they would still love her as she loved them? Yet, there was no answer, and she knocked again. And again. She stepped back and looked up at the frosted window above the door. The light was on, so why did they not answer the door? Perhaps they had fallen asleep already?  
  
_

_She stepped down from the porch and walked around the house and discreetly as she could, looking through the windows as best she could. When she reached the backside of the house, she started hearing voices. She stopped dead in her tracks when she recognized the voices. NO! He could not be here! How had he found them before her?!  
  
_

_Slowly, yet steady, she moved towards the nearest window that was half-hidden by a large rosebush, and looked through the windows. Inside was the Werewolf of her nightmares, but also some other people, including a girl and some men that she couldn’t recall ever meeting. Though.. Wasn’t that Marcus Flint? She had never really thought much about him, except for the fact that he had taken too many bludgers to the face, and that he was still ugly as hell.  
  
_

_“... Hasn’t been here! We- We haven't talked to her!” Her dad cried out while trying to cover his wife with his body trying to protect her from harm, his voice breaking while looking like someone who was seeing the ghosts from one’s past. “I swear! We haven’t seen her for a year!”  
  
_

_Instantly she got the largest lump in her throat that she had ever gotten before. They remembered her? A tear left her eye, and she gasped. She rushed her hands up to cover her mouth before anyone could figure out that she was eavesdropping. She stood there frozen in place as she listened. If she rushed in there now, they would all die. What should she do? Damnit, she didn’t know what to do!  
  
_

_“I’m not sure he knows what happens when he lies, boss.” One of the men said with a wicked smile, while he wrenched Richard away from Jean who fell numbly to the floor, her eyes staring into nothing. Oh god, mom was dead! Hermione gasped once again as her emotions started running high and she struggled to keep her cool while trying to stay hidden. She bit into her hand to stop herself from making noise while she cried for her mother. Her beloved, perfect mother who might not even have remembered her as she perished from earth, her soul shooting up to join the stars in the sky, to look down upon her.  
  
_

_“For once in your life, I think you might be right.” Greyback said, going down on his knees, grabbing the back of Richards shirt when his henchman dropped him on the floor in front of his boss. He turned Richard around so that they were facing each other. “Now, I will only ask you once, and I advise you to answer truthfully.” He said, and sniffed at her dad like it would give him an answer, “Where Is Hermione Granger?”  
  
_

_“I AM telling you the truth! I swear! I haven’t seen her! We didn’t even know that we had a daughter until you pointed that thing at us! And she’ll never know, that we remember...” He started sobbing. “She'll never know...”  
  
_

_“Oh, shut up, will you?” Greyback said and slit Richards throat with a knife that Hermione hadn’t even realized that he had in his hand. The Werewolf threw Richard on the floor like he had been some kind of trash that was making him dirty. He raised to his knees with a sight, moving the knife to his lips and licked the blood off of the knife with one long stroke. He moaned loudly, and opened his now fully dilated eyes and looked straight at the window where Hermione was standing. “She’s here. GET HER!” She moved away from the window and disapparated away, never to come back. The next 2 days she would disapparate every hour to a new location somewhere in the world, to not get caught again.  
  
_

By now she had moved all the way to the wall, standing with her fingers lightly tracing the faces of her parents through one of the photographs. She cried silently and took down the picture, intending to keep it as her only visual memoir. Gods, how she missed them every single day. She looked up in the direction of the sky. Did they look after her? Had she made them proud in her life? She folded up the picture and put it in her pocket. She turned around to disapparate out of there, but instead she was thrown violently to the ground. “What the fuck?” She groaned.   
  


She tried looking up, but was struck with a sharp pain in the back of her head, and everything was black once again.   
  
  
.   
  
  


_“But love is such a powerful word!” She said loudly, “I know numbers, and calculations and-and…” She looked up at Ginny with tears welling up in her eyes, “How can he love someone so-so broken? How can he love someone so dirty and... Faulted?” she croaked out falling to her knees with her hands grabbing for her hair, trying to remove it from her face as she broke down.  
  
_

_Ginny’s arms were around her before she had even hit the ground. Her Ginny, her best friend. They had gone through hell and back, and would do it again if they had to. But if there was one thing they were definitely not, it was whole. They both had their scars just like everybody else who took part in the war no matter the side, both internal and external scars.  
  
_

_“I know George doesn't always make sense, he rarely does, actually,” she chuckled, ”but if there is one thing he never does, it is lying. Since Fred.. Since Fred passed, he hasn't been able to lie without people knowing. If he says that he is in love with you, then that is the truth. We’re all broken here, some more than others. But it’s up to our self to figure out how to function, without breaking down. Maybe.. Maybe you can help each other heal?”  
  
_

.  
  
  


“Jesus fucking Christ,” She groaned, and tried moved her hands to get up again. But the problem was that no matter how hard she tried; she couldn’t move her arms. Or Legs for that matter. She opened her eyes, and shut them again instantly. It was too damn bright.   
  


“Well well, little princess perfect is finally awake. Did you enjoy your beauty sleep, your highness?” She tried opening her eyes again but closed them again and choked as ice-cold water was thrown at her face. She was gasping for air as soon as she could and finally found the courage to open her eyes. What she found came as no surprise, yet would have pulled the rug from under her feet had she been standing. In front of her was a woman that was vaguely familiar, Cormac (really no surprise there) and the.. Pool guy? “What the hell” She would have whispered, but it came out as more like a yell, when she locked eyes with him and his fucking smile that was currently present on the bastard’s smug face.   
  


He inspected his nails in an obnoxious way that would have made Lucius Malfoy look like a tame kitten. “You can’t tell me that you’re surprised by now. Did you see my perfect work in the basement? You’re really way too predictable.” He said in perfect English. Even his accent had been a lie.   
  


“Now now Liam, remember to remove the drool once you’re done. You know the mudblood isn't meant for you.”   
  


Her head whipped to Cormac like he had slapped her, and she looked at him, horrified. ”What are you talking about? Untie me! I haven’t done anything!” She yelled at him.   
  


“Haven’t done anything? Hah, what a laugh. You never told me she was this hilarious Cormac.” the woman said to Cormac and continued, “You exist bitch, that’s more than enough. Every second that you live is mere pollution for the magical population. Can we just kill her now? I’ve been looking forward to this for years!” Hermione’s eyes widened in panic and uncertainty. She was once again gasping for air and feeling her chest tighten up. This time though, there was plenty of air around her, yet she found it impossible to breath. Her vision was starting to darken around the edges when a slap across the face brought her back once more.   
  


“Stop that nonsense. You can’t die just yet,” someone grabbed her chin and forced it up, “You know that Dario likes them alive and conscious.” He said to the others, and forcefully pushed her face to the side.   
  


_Dario?_ She didn’t know if she was supposed to know who that was. There were so many dark spots in her memories, and they were starting to annoy her immensely. Furthermore, “alive and conscious”? She was screwed in so many ways and she was terrified.   
  


_I’m not coming out of this alive._


	7. Chapter 7

Harry was heading for the Department of Magical Law enforcement as he was every morning. Today though, had had an extraordinarily annoying beginning. The day had started out with Ginny and him having an argument. Sure, they bickered and pulled jokes at each other and what not, but they never argued. Period. It was the same matter as always, but this time it had ended heated. And when he said heated, it wasn’t in the this-is-going-to-end-up-in-smoking-hot-sex-on-the-kitchen-counter- kind of heated. More like the yelling-kind, with tears and doors getting slammed. 

Ginny wanted children - as in multiples. Which he was fine with by the way - more than fine really. He had wanted to have mini-Ginnys running around his legs since they started dating seriously. Hell, he wanted them now as well. But that wasn’t the issue. A part of the issues started out with Harry who had just been promoted head of his department, and Ginny herself who had been fished out as chaser for the Holyhead Harpies with the possibility of being their best chaser since the beginning of the 19th century. Now, the _real_ issue was Mrs. Molly Weasley. She had given Ginny _the talk_ about how Ginny should be at home giving birth to beautiful babies and take care of her family and home, instead of “going out and behaving like a stuck up teenager” flying about on her damn broom and risking her life (and birth-ready-body apparently). At home, the day after their chat, Ginny had told Harry all about it and defended her mother with the fact that her mother actually had a point and that she should quit her job within the next month or so. She had to, really, it wasn’t like she was Hermione and could devote her entire life to working if she had the chance. 

Harry had been livid. Ginny was an amazing woman, who had her own thoughts, motives, beliefs and wishes. Ginny couldn’t see how he had fallen in love and married a girl with a mind of her own, with beliefs of her own, in matters that definitely didn’t concern her mother. What would she have done, if Molly had told her that Harry wasn’t the right match for her? Leave him? He was pissed. Molly needed to mind her own fucking business, and let Ginny live her life. Even if that meant flying around in the wind, grinning from face to face - which Molly didn’t see, because she was too afraid of watching Ginny getting hurt, to actually show up for a match or rehearsal. 

Other than their argument, there had been journalists on his heels from the moment he stepped out of the floo asking about Hermione, and one of his colleagues trying to whisper in his ear asking for details about Hermione as well, like it couldn’t wait for the meeting in an hour. He was going to have a migraine before he could even reach his office, if it kept up like this. 

“Potter!” 

“What?” He snapped and turned to his right where he saw minister Shacklebolt walking towards him. “Sorry, Sir. What can I help you with?” 

“I was just on my way to talk to you. Do you have a minute or two?” The minister looked at him with his head tilted somewhat to the side, like he was observing him from a new angle. 

“For the minister of Magic? Really Kingsley, do I even have a choice?” He laughed. Kingsley winked at him and moved his hand in the direction of Harry’s office, indicating for Harry to lead the way. Harry nodded politely, and started walking. 

They entered the office, and Harry silenced the room. “How can I help you today, Sir?” 

“How’s it going with Hermione’s case?” Kingsley asked as he placed his hands on his hips, and looked over the whiteboard that had not had any additional pictures or notes since the last time he stood in that spot some weeks ago. 

“Bad. No sightings, no murders that we know of, no traces, no nothing. It’s like she’s disappeared off of the surface of earth. I’m not sure how to move one from this.” 

“Hmm...” He scratched at his chin, still looking at the map. “Did you see the list I sent you yesterday?” 

“The list of missing purebloods?” Kingsley nodded in reply, but said nothing. “Yes. But I don’t see how that is of any importance regarding Hermione. Or am I missing something?” 

Once he had received the list, he had spent a good hour looking it over, and matching anything up that was possible. But two couples where half of them were known pureblood-fanatics, that had disappeared right after the war had ended, really didn’t come as any surprise. They had lost the war after all. They did have an excuse to hate Hermione because of her blood, but a lot of people had hated her for less - and more. 

“I’m not sure it _is_ of any insignificance, but it wouldn’t be the first time she had been hated. It was merely a thought. But this wasn’t even the reason why I came up here, even though I find it somewhat striking, that 4 of those people went to school with you and Hermione at about the same time.” He said and moved from the whiteboard and to the table where he sat down in the chair across from Harry, who was staring at the list once again. “But I wanted to ask you if you wanted to speak on Memorial Day. Perhaps make a statement about how the department is still hunting down death eaters, even though there is such great focus on finding Hermione?” 

“At Hogwarts this year, again?” Harry asked, leaning back in his chair, looking at Kingsley. The man looked old suddenly, like all of the struggles in the world were suddenly put on his shoulders, for the minister to bear alone. 

“Yes, I was thinking that we would start at Hogsmeade station at 6 PM, and then have a torchlight procession to Hogwarts, where Headmistress McGonagall, I, and hopefully you, will hold speeches by the lake. Once the speeches are done, there will be food and drinks.” He told him like he had rehearsed it a hundred times, and then been asked about the plan a hundred times more. 

“Yeah, sure. I’ll do it. Anything specific you want me to talk about except for our after-war-work?” He asked. More often than not, Kingsley had a plan when he asked such a question, and sometimes it was better to just let him get it his way. The minister was a good leader and person, but one didn’t necessarily want to get on his bad side, on the wrong day. This was definitely one of those days. 

“No. I think that’s it. Just make it striking and honest, that’s all I’m asking.” He said, and with a nod towards Harry, he left the room once again. 

“Fuck...” Harry sighted. He really had enough with the case, and all of his normal work. But Kingsley was right. Perhaps this was a good time to be completely honest with the public?

….

Later that night Harry closed the backdoor at the burrow, trying to get some silence. He loved his bonus-family, but man were they loud sometimes, and today had been an insanely long and tiring day even despite his and Ginny’s fighting. He moved towards a bench that was placed a few meters away, but was surprised by shadow with particularly red hair.

“Hey George, what’s up? Why aren’t you inside?” He asked his brother-in-law, but he must have startled him, because George dropped something that he had been fidgeting with, into the grass. He quickly picked it back up, and hugged it to his chest, and dried a stray tear away with the sleeve of his shirt. 

“George?” He laid his hand on George’s shoulder and gave it a slight squeeze. “You alright there, mate?” George had definitely been quieter since the war, and more emotional. But then again, a lot had happened. 

“It is exactly one year since I heard from her last.” He said, looking down at his hands. “One year to the day, we had our first argument because she couldn’t believe that anyone could ever love her, when she was broken, filthy and ruined, and I couldn’t believe how she could be so naïve. How she could ever find herself unlovable” He sniffed and dropped his head. 

“Mate...I had no idea. How did that even happen? You and her I mean.” Harry had sat down beside him and sat staring out at the meadow that encircled the Burrow. He could never think of a more unlikely, yet perfect match, such as George and Hermione. Some things and moments, suddenly made sense, and he smiled to himself.

“We spent a lot of time together during the summer, just sitting and doing nothing. It must have been pretty boring to other people; us, just sitting in silence, doing nothing. But for us, it was some sort of therapy. We wrote some back and forth when she went back to Hogwarts, and it escalated during the Christmas hols. I think she was as surprised as I was, but it… It made sense, somehow. We made sense.” He had opened his hand, and Harry could see that he was restlessly turning and touching a small golden ring that looked way too small for him.

Something dawned on him, and his eyes widened, and he looked at George with surprise painted all over his face. “Did you propose to her?” 

George laughed at this like Harry had just told the joke of the century. “I think she would have killed me herself if I had gotten down on one knee, before asking for you or her father’s blessing. I did get us rings though, as a promise that once we were ready, we could put rings on each other. see, I have hers, and she has mine. ”He gave the ring to Harry for him to see. It was a simple golden band, with some writing on the inside. 

“What does it say?” He asked while returning the ring to George who put it on a necklace that Harry had never noticed before. It had obviously put a lot of thought into all of this. 

“Mine says _Curly_ , hers says _Red_.” He chuckled. “Hermione slapped me across my shoulder when she read it, and laughed so hard that she started crying. They’re quite special really, and sort of creepy. It is made with a single drop of her blood, which is why it has a slight color-difference from ordinary gold. That way, we will always have something from each other with us, until we marry that is.” 

“Wow, you’re even creepier than I thought. So, there’s actual blood inside that thing?” He asked, itching his chin lost in thought. 

“Harry?” A female voice called out from behind the two men, “Can we leave? I was thinking we could hit Fortescue on the way...” She trailed off when she reached them, “Am I interrupting something?” 

“No, it’s fine, I have to get back to the store anyway. Got a potion bubbling away that needs to have ingredients added.” He kissed Ginny on the temple and ruffled Harry’s hair. “See you around, lovebirds.” 

Harry looked at Ginny as she looked towards the ground, he could see her eyes watering as she continued: “I was thinking we could hit Fortescue on our way home. We have to talk this through Harry. I know I left before you had a chance to speak your mind.” Her voice cracked and he saw a single tear travel down her cheek. Before any rational thoughts made their way through his head he was on his feet, embracing her. “Please don’t leave me.” She croaked out, and his heart broke a little by the sound of what must have been her biggest fair in that moment. 

“What? Of course not, love!” Harry could feel his own voice rasping up because of the built-up emotion. He pulled his face away from hers and moved his hands to her cheeks, drying away her tears with his thumbs. “Why on earth would you think that?” 

“I- I just thought that you...” She took a deep breath and looked towards the ground, like she was preparing herself for the worst possible outcome. Like he would actually leave her afterwards. “I Just thought that you wouldn’t want to be with me, if I couldn’t give you children...” 

His eyes widened in disbelief, “Is that really what you think?” She nodded, still looking towards the ground “Ginny, look at me.” no response. 

“Ginny.” He said softly, trying to pry her face up towards his, but in vain, “Please, look at me.” 

When she didn’t respond to that, he went down on both knees in front of her and looked up at her instead. “I don’t know if you remember, but this is the exact place where I proposed to you last year. I told you that you were the most beautiful, strong, quick-witted and resourceful woman I had ever met in my entire life. You and your fangirling brought us closer to each other, but when I finally figured out what was in front of me, you had already given up on getting my affection and moved on to someone else. Back then I would do anything, and I still will do this day, do absolutely anything in my power for you to be mine. I love you more than life itself.” Ginny snorted at this, but he was finally getting some reaction from her. “I’m Serious Ginny! If it had been you on the run instead of Hermione, you that had been trapped in that dungeon and being raped and.. And whatever happened there.. I would kill whoever had done it. But I would find you, and I would keep you safe. I would make sure that no one would ever be able to hurt my girl. Do you hear me Ginny? I’m not giving up on you dammit!” He hadn’t realized that he had started yelling the last part while his own tears had started streaming. “I need you. Can’t you see that?” He looked up at her, finding her with wide eyes that were misting over once again. ”I don’t care if you can’t have children. Sure, I want kids with you, but only you. If you can’t then I’ll manage without them. I just need you. Only you.”

“Oh, Harry.” She bent down and kissed him, throwing all of the emotion into the kiss as best she could. “I love you, but we can’t end an argument like this morning. Up for ice cream?” He smiled and they made quick goodbyes to her family, before leaving for ice-cream and an evening spent on their couch talking this whole problem over. 

….

On Wednesday the 2nd of May, at 6 PM, Harry stood at Hogsmeade station with a torchlight in one hand, and Ginny’s hand in the other. They started walking with Kingsley, Luna Lovegood and her husband Rolf, Ron, Violet and the rest of the Weasleys. He looked to his right and saw George, walking with a distant look in his eyes, clutching what must be his ring with such force that his knuckles were white. Harry knew that this was hard for him too. so many people had died that day including Fred, and George deserved to be with people who loved him and cared for him. He had his family of course, but he didn’t have Hermione as he should have. 

The walk to the castle was mostly silent. Whispered conversation could be heard in between, but that wasn’t what caught Harry’s attention. It was the way that everyone seemed kind of on edge. Like they were still waiting for hell to break loose. For more people to die. For screams, and yelling... For pleas... For people using their last breath, to send a silent prayer to their loved one. Instantly Harry got a lump in his throat, and he tugged Ginny closer, draping his arm around her shoulder. 

Even though the memorial days-celebrations was a way to celebrate the victory, it was also a celebration of life, and a dismissal of death, segregation, prejudices and stereotypes. The magical population was set at never returning to that. At least that was his understanding until the extent of Hermione’s stalking and torture was revealed. 

…. 

Harry was staring at the Podium from where he would be having his speech, while being able to see the lake in front of Hogwarts, Dumbledore’s final resting place and the mass of people that had met up to “send out their love”, as they had been told when the ministry had send out the advertisers for today’s event. While we would be standing, looking out on the show-ups, they would be able to see him and as much of Hogwarts as possible from the location. It was all very theatrical, and planned out down to the smallest detail. He might have guessed that Percy had something to do with that, but the man’s severe lack of creativity might have been a small bump on the road. Maybe Kingsley himself? He did like to deliver a show worthy of seeing. 

At some point people started looking at him as he stood at the side, people whispering to each other and switching between looking at him and their neighbors. Ginny gave him a slight nudge with her elbow, and he figured that he had missed his own introduction. He cleared his throat, grabbed his speech that had been carefully written down, and went up to stand before the mass. 

“Um, Hello. Sorry about that, I kind of lost myself back there. Well you obviously know who I am, but you may not know what my department has done since...” He trailed out, looking out over the people. He looked at his papers and then let his hands fall down his sides, the papers falling silently to the ground like leaves falling from the trees in the fall. He felt an itch at his cheek and reached up to scratch it, but was surprised to feel wetness. With his hand still to his cheek he turned his head and looked to Ginny, who was covering her mouth with both hands, tears springing from her eyes while nodding at him. 

“You know what? We have been down this road together before, and we all know what is to come. I was told to do some grand speech (he put out his arm to somehow show how big) where I appraised my departments work from after the war. Give numbers of how many war-criminals we have caught or some bullshit, so that the magical population believes that we are actually doing everything in our power, to bring justice to the world. (He looked towards the bundle of ministry-official that stood at the left side of the stage. some nodding, some shaking their heads.) But the reality is somewhat different. Yes, we are doing our absolute best. But in all reality, even though it is extremely selfish of me, I don’t want to be here a single second. I should be out there, looking for my best friend. She should be able to be here with us, bringing smiles to your faces and giving you numbers of how many people’s and creature’s lives she would have improved over this past year. Yet she isn’t here! I’m sorry, but I feel so sorry for you! you should be able to see her smile and experience her laughter and joy. But above all, you should all be able to be among people who you love. A lot of you are here today, because you lost a sister, a brother, a child, a soulmate or friend. You’re here, but you shouldn’t have to.” 

Harry paused here to take a deep breath, and looked around the crowd. He noted that a lot of them had huddled up in pairs or groups, hugging each other like they were scared to lose one another. Some looked scared, while others looked sad. He didn’t know what he had expected with his speech, but not this. Harry pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, where they had slid down from, and continued; “You’re here because one man had the sick mind to think that he could kill someone. That he could make other people kill for him. All because he thought himself above people who were not purely magical, even though his own father was a muggle. He believed that he solely had the right to take someone’s life. 

We won that day. WE FUCKING WON! “He pumped his fist once, celebratory into the air, “But then, not really. There are still people out there like him. Who has power, money, insulting beliefs. Who think themselves above others without having any reason to. Money doesn’t matter, grades doesn’t matter, THIS doesn’t matter! But you know what does? You do! 

For a long, long time, even before the war ended, I felt like I didn’t have my place in the world. I felt myself unimportant, insignificant, replaceable. But then I was found, and I got a new family and a new world. This new world gave me friends that I wouldn’t be without ever again. But there were days that were rough.. I honestly cannot give you a number of how many times I have been standing at the top of the astronomy-tower looking down, willing my body to fall and perish. So, I’m going to let this be some kind of sick reminder to you all. Life will get better, and life will get worse. But at some point, it will turn again. It is always, and will always be, okay to fall. As long as you remember to get up at some point, even if it takes you _years_. You may not love yourself, but there is someone who does. Don’t take them for granted. Thank you.” 

Harry closed his eyes as he turned around to walk back down, wanting to escape the applause that followed him every time he had held a speech. But instead of the sound of clapping he was stopped by a small hand on his shoulder. He opened his eyes and they found Ginny’s instantly. “Look, Harry.” She whispered and nodded her head back towards the crowd of people. He twisted his upper body making sure that he was still able to walk down fast, but he didn’t. What was in front of him, was something he had only seen two times in his life. His breath caught in his throat and he took a step backwards, astonishment evident on his face. In front of him was what he thought to be two or three thousand lit wands, raised towards the sky, in memory of the people lost and dead. Beside him, Ginny raised her wand as well and gave him a weak smile, encouraging him to do the same. So, Harry raised his wand and lit it towards the sky. It must be one of the most beautiful things he had seen in his life, and for the first time in many years; Harry was honored to be a part of the magical community. 

…. 

A couple of hours later Harry was once again standing by Headmistress McGonagall, discussing the school and what it had come to be. They must have covered everything in the magical dimension by now, and not once had they gone near the subject of Miss Hermione Granger. He knew that it had to come at one point, especially after his speech. To everyone that had asked him throughout the evening, he had given short and well-used phrases of “It’s going well, we’re making progress.” and “Yes, we’ll find her soon.” Bullshit. He was also well aware that those phrases would mean nothing to his old professor, and that she would see straight through him in seconds.

“I’m terribly sorry Mr. Potter, but I have to ask. How _is_ the investigation going?” aaaaaand, there it was. 

He breathed out and went to answer her, “It’s going well, and we expect-” 

“Do you think me a fool, Potter?” she asked, her stern and always seeing eyes on his green ones. 

“No, Professor.” He said quietly. 

“Then stop lying to me, and stop calling me professor. Now, how is the investigation going?” She asked again, leaving no room for him to avoid answering. 

“Bad. We got nothing except for magical traces of where she _has_ been.” 

“Hmm..” She started out thoughtfully. “It is of course great that you know where she has been already. I highly doubt that she would go back to the same place twice. Maybe I could check in with madam Pince, and ask if she has something in her library that may-” 

“Harry m’boy, how good to see you!” A voice called from behind Harry, and though he could hear Horace Slughorn coming towards them, he could also see the face of Professor McGonagall before him. She looked less than pleased at being interrupted in such an important conversation. “Horace,” She said in an obviously annoyed tone.

“Hello Minerva. ehm. “He cleared his throat, “So sorry to interrupt. I, solely by chance of course, overheard your conversation with young Mr. Potter, here.” He clapped Harry hard on the back, in a manner that would make Hagrid proud. 

The headmistress lifted her eyebrow and gave him a stern matter. “And what, pray tell Horace, do you have to tell me that is so important, that it could not wait?” She had crossed her arms over her chest and was tapping one finger on her other forearm, impatiently. 

The potions master must have noticed too, as he took a steady step backwards towards safety. “I merely wanted to offer my help, should you need it at one point, Mr. Potter. I, Of course, know that you are sublime at the art of potion making. Being that said, I might know of potions that could help locate the lost miss Granger.” Slughorn was rubbing his hands in a way that made him look like an evil genius, from some kind of old muggle film. 

The silence around them was almost thick enough to be cut. Both Harry and McGonagall seemed to be thinking the same thing as their eyes met for a moment; _How can he help with a potion?_ “Of course,” He started out when the awkward silence must have become too much for the elderly man, “If my help is not wanted, I can...” He trailed out and went to turn around but was stopped by Harry’s hand on his shoulder. 

“What do you need?” Harry’s green eyes bore into blue ones. 

“Hair. Saliva. Or skin cells. Blood at the best. Anything, as long as it is from her body. Even sweat could be usable in large enough amounts.” 

Something clicked inside Harry’s mind and his eyes left his professors to search the crowd. When he found the person he was looking for, he started running and pushing his way through the crowd murmuring apologies on the way. He took a hold of the shoulder and yanked it towards himself. The redhead whirled around and glared at Harry, “What the fuck Harry?” 

“I know how we can find her!” Harry almost yelled, and dragged him back towards the two professors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! I want to thank you for reading this fic, I really apprediate all of your kudos! Things will begin to pick up from now on and will get dark and angsty. I hope you'll stick around for the ride!


	8. Chapter 8

Authour note: 

I am so sorry for the wait. Life happened. The world happened! I hope you're all staying safe, whether you're selfisolating or taking part in some of the protests around the world. 

.....

"Now, I think we can have a bit of fun before we call the wanker. Don't you?" Liam said, licking his bottom lip as he put something in her mouth, gagging her. It made her think of Ron from one of the times that he had tried turning her on, before trying to get her in bed with him. The only difference was, that with Liam she found it predatory and greedy, instead of sexy and endearing. It was just like some of the movies she had seen. In a few seconds he would unbuckle his belt and take out his manhood. He would start tearing of her clothes and rape her only to be followed up by Cormac who would want a taste of his own, while Flora did... something else. 

She knew it was coming, and she was ready for it. Ready for the embarrassment, the hurt and the pain. Ready to want to die while her body would be molested, and she would see it from above like she had already left her body to go to the world beyond. 

Yet, it didn't. Instead he pulled out a wand. Her wand. And twirled it between his fingers, "Look at this cheap piece of scrap, have you seen this?" he showed it to the others, who wrinkled the nodes in disgust. “Yeah I know, how a mudblood ever got a hold of a wand is beyond me." and he snapped it. She could see the magic leaving the wand as she could feel her heart breaking. NO! She gasped. Her wand! 

"This though, is a wand for someone truly worthy." he took out a second one that might be his own, and pointed it to the sealing, grasping and ungrasping his fingers around the delicate piece of wood. She could hear the rumbling in his chest as he laughed, and he turned the wand towards her.

"Repartum Morten!" 

Instantly she felt a rope around her throat, and it was tightening up. She knew exactly what was happening, but there was no way that she could avoid the feeling of panic hitting her like a truck. If only it had been a real truck, then at least it would be over quickly. She started pulling at her arms again trying to get them free, so that she could tear away the invisible rope that was strangling her. But it was no use. The rope would never leave a mark, but she could already see the body that would never be found with red searing marks around the throat, from where a rope has crushed the skin. All of these thoughts ran through her mind as she felt her lungs clenching for air that reached them, but felt like it didn't. 

As quickly as it had started, it ended. She was sitting on the chair heaving for air with tears running down her cheeks and onto her lap, where they stained her clothes. 

"see! I told you it would be fun!" He laughed at the others. Flora was struggling to stand properly as she was laughing so hard, she had to hold on to a chair, not to fall. Cormac just stood there, a mortified look in his eyes, like he knew exactly what was going on. 

"REPARTUM MORTEM!" Liam yelled again. 

At first, nothing happened and she though, for only the tiniest of moments, that maybe the spell had stopped working? 

Then it crept up on her. 

Her entire body started heating up and cooling down simultaneously, as she felt cuts everywhere on her body. Her feet, thighs, stomach, wrists, breasts, neck. Everywhere. It wasn’t like a sharp searing pain, but more like it felt uncomfortable. It began itching and burning at the specific cuts that went burning hot, yet the rest of her body felt deadly cold. She felt something trickling down her arms and made the mistake of looking down as best she could, still being tied to the damned chair. 

Red. Red everywhere. She saw small lines of red running down her skin, while spots on her clothes were starting to materialize. Was she bleeding to death?! 

"Uhh this is much better than the last! I didn't know it actually changed!" He was so excited about her forthcoming would-be-death. It was sickening. 

…. 

She didn’t know for how long she had been lying on the floor, the chair still bound to her and the front of her body facing away from the door. All she knew was that it felt like hours since they left her to her to crumble. Liam had continued his slow torture for a while after that, wanting to know the many ways he could see her dying without her actually dying. Drowning, her heart ripped out, her body split in two, her limbs being cut off one by one till she "died" from blood loss - that seemed to have been his favorite one. 

After she had spent the better part of half an hour getting her body under control again, she had finally started taking it the surrounding. She felt completely drained, and even though her face was resting against the cold floor, her instincts were telling her to take in all possible information around her. She was in the bedroom that she had previously investigated for clues as to who lived in the house. She felt somewhat at easy - at least she knew where she was. 

The strain on her body and emotions were finally pulling her towards the brink of sleep, when voices tore her back to reality; “Let’s just summon him. I’m not risking my head because you think you can get more galleons. It’s stupid.” Cormac suddenly yelled.   
Wait, what? When they had left, she though that they would summon that Dario-person right away, instead of yelling at each other. Either they didn’t think her a threat, or they were just too lazy to put up silencing-spells. 

“You’re only saying that because you live in his house. Why did we even make this stupid deal with Dario?” Flora said, a little louder than Cormac. She seemed on the verge or yelling at her voice became somewhat shrill at the end. She was definitely breaking soon. 

“Because he isn't threatening to kill you if you put a foot out of line. Isn’t that why you married me, Flora?” A new voice said. This time she took but a second to figure out who it was. Marcus Flint had insulted her so many times within her first year of Hogwarts, that it almost reached Malfoy’s level. She snorted. Of Course, he was here. The only person missing now was Malfoy and then they could all have their own little Mudblood-hating-club. She would have volunteered to be their sacrifice if they hadn’t tied her up. Bastards. 

“Well it’s not like I wanted it! Or have you forgotten my parents at the end of Amycus’s wandpoint?!” She yelled back at him. Well, Hermione had always loved being right about outcomes, and she (almost) had the front row seat of this fantastic verbal quarrel. It was quite a bittersweet feeling that she wanted to see their faces while they yelled each other’s heads off, yet she didn’t want to be within a hundred kilometers of them. 

“Oh, come down from your pedestal love, it doesn't suit you being so tall.” Marcus said and one could only imagine the beet-red color risen in Flora’s face. 

“Keep rolling your eyes. Maybe you’ll find a brain back there.” Marcus declared, yet it was said so faintly that she almost missed it. Fuck, this was golden. 

“What did you say?!” Cormac roared. “If you’d had half the brains that I do, you would have chosen to winning side of the fucking battle!” Then there was noise, followed by a “thud”, like something heavy hitting the floor. What the hell was going on? Was she actually lucky enough for them to kill each other? 

“NO, MARCUS! NO!” Flora screeched. 

“See Flora, I told you he was stupid. Why did you even pine for that? He’s nothing!” Marcus spat the last part, like it was something disgusting that he needed to get rid of. 

“Please Marcus... Please Stop...” Her words sounded kind of choked down. Was she crying or being held by the throat? Hermione couldn’t tell from her current location. “The full moon is only a few days away. You-you wouldn’t be saying this otherwise.” She sniffed out. Definitely crying. 

“No! I Wanted you! But you never gave me anything but your acidic words. Don’t you think I know when my wife yearns for someone else?!” He yelled at her, and then spat out, “He’s got as much charm as a dead fucking slug!”

Through all of this Cormac had been silent. It must have been him hitting the floor previously. Dead or alive? One could only hope for the first option. Right now, she was kind of hoping for anything as long as it meant her getting out of there. 

Now that she thought about it.. Where was Liam through their fighting? Maybe he had left? 

“But he wanted me for me, and not for my ability to produce children!” She yelled back through her tears. 

“Not for your... HA! You’re just as stupid as him. Maybe you’d have been perfect for each other!” She heard him walking around the living room, and could almost see the smirk on his face. He was having way too much fun with this. 

“What.. What do you mean?” She croaked out. 

“You mean to tell me that you don’t know why Maria was killed?” A pause. She must have shaken her head, as he continued his verbal slaughter against Floras obvious crush on Cormac. Hermione would be lying, if she said she wasn’t interested in this change of topic. He had, after all, told her that Maria had left him. “It seemed that she didn’t like his friends and therefore refused to spread her legs for him, like any good pureblood-wife should do for her husband.” He spat at her, and continued, ”When he forced himself on her and she didn’t produce an heir for him, he gave her to the old man. And what do you think happened to her, dear wife?” For all Hermione knew, she hadn’t seen that one coming. She suddenly noticed a stray tear running down her cheek and tickling it on its way towards her ear. 

What happened next, she wasn’t sure of, but there were more noises, muffled voices and crying. It went on like that for what must have been 15 or 30 minutes, followed by a door slamming shut. Then, silence. 

While they either killed each other or had sex - which ever they had chosen she wasn’t really sure of until she started hearing moans - She tried once again getting out of her restraints. They were not magical, as much she was sure of. But whoever had tied her up, damn well knew what they were doing. That’s when she felt it. Something warm between her breasts. 

She was kind of cold. It was perfe-

Wait.. What? 

Between her breasts? What could.. Her eyes widened in sudden understanding, and she sent a silent thanks to George for being a bloody creep that stole her blood. The day he had told her, she had Ginny hexing him all the way to St. Mungo’s, while she laid in her sister-in-law’s bed crying her eyes out, because of fucking love. Yet, she had still kept the ring in a chain around her neck, almost close to her heart. Making sure her love always knew his way back to her. The only problem was that the only chain she had found, was too long, and therefore the ring was always nestled in her cleavage. 

The warmth began feeling unpleasant, and it now felt like burning. She leaned her upper body away from the back of the chair, trying to turn her entire body away from the burning sensation. She succeeded and when she looked down, she could just see the outline against her shirt. 

POP! 

She screamed in surprise - or tried, as she was still gagged - as Harry Potter apparated into the room, just in front of her. He quickly removed the cloth from her mouth and put his finger to his lips, telling her to stay quiet. But it was too late. They heard the front door being thrown open and fast, heavy steps coming their way. 

“Three or four people Harry!” She quickly breathed as he sliced her restraints open and she threw herself away from the horrid chair and behind him. She tried standing up on her unsteady feet, but found them completely numb from lack of blood circulation.   
Her legs buckled under her and she lost her footing, she reached out for anything to save her from the fall and caught the back of Harry's arm. At the contact, she felt a sudden surge of power running through her body starting at her hand. She moved her hand from his arm and down to his hand, which she grabbed with both of hers. The impact was instant and they both breathed out a sigh of relief. "got it 'Mione." He smiled down at her. 

The door was ripped open and Marcus was standing there, with wild eyes and sweat dripping down his forehead. “Potter.” He drawled, “Welcome to the party.” He spread his hands out to the sides like it was some grand invitation. 

“He’s stalling.” She whispered behind Harry. “We have to leave.” 

“I heard you did good in life. I guess It was just my imagination thinking you could actually do something right with that ugly face of yours.” Harry with a shrug. 

Marcus actually had the decency to laugh at Harry’s comment. “Well, at least I’m not Scarface.” 

“Well it has certainly grown on me over the years. Want one for yourself? I’m sure it can be arranged?” Harry said snickering. Knowing Harry, Hermione knew there would be an unmistakable glint in his eye, that found its way out when he was having fun. 

Flint chose to ignore the playing tone in the way Harry spoke, and moved closer to them instead. Harry reacted the instant Marcus moved and turned their bodies to keep facing him. The only issue was, that they were moving away from the fireplace. 

“She’s not leaving.” Marcus sneered at Harry. 

Harry’s hand softly clenched Hermione’s, reassuring her, “Sure she is. Today, Hermione is coming home to her family.” 

“Harry.” Hermione said firmly. Though she was touched by the love and certainty with which he spoke, they needed to leave, and now was not soon enough. 

“All in due time, ‘Mione.” He whispered at her. What? Were they waiting for something? Or someone? 

She felt the strength from Harry running through her body, yet she still felt drained both emotionally and physically. The past years had been challenging for her. While she, Ron and Harry had been on the run they had had each other at the very least. But this time, she had been alone. Being alone for so long was not good for anyone no matter who they were, and she had been no exception. 

Without warning, explosions sounded outside the house and she turned her head towards the window in surprise. To their advantage, so did Marcus Flint who burst out “FUCK!”. 

Harry lifted his wand to curse when the door was thrown open and Liam hurried in, eyes on Hermione. “I thought you had her under control, you Idiot. How hard can it be?!” He sneered, obviously at Marcus. 

Marcus had collected himself quickly from the explosions and yelling outside, and now had his wand pointed at Hermione. “I do.” 

While the two had their pissing-contest, Hermione and Harry slowly moved towards the fireplace. Though Marcus had his wand at Hermione, he didn’t seem to focus as he didn’t say anything but just followed them with his eyes. 

“Not another step!” Liam yelled and threw a spell at the pair. Luckily, Harry had his shield up so the spell never hit its mark. Harry responded with a Jelly-leg-jinx at Marcus who were so focused on Hermione that he never realized what hit him. The tree continued throwing curses and jinxes at each other for some time, while Hermione did her best to avoid anything coming her way yet not getting in Harry’s way as he jumped around himself around. A sudden explosion shattered the window and Hermione barked out in pain as she was hit by the flying glass. “I’m fine!” She called at Harry before he could lose his concentration. Shakely, she got to her legs, only to dive out of the way as a jinx almost hit her. Hell, she missed her wand. She would have to buy a new one if she got out of this alive. She threw herself to the side again and felt something roam her shoulder. “Harry! I don’t know how long I can do this without my wand!” 

As if on cue, a second curse hit her straight to her hip and she fell to the floor. Harry responded and a THUD sounded from the door, followed by a POP. She looked up and found Marcus lying on the floor unconscious, and the doorway empty. It seemed that Liam had apparated out the second he was left to fend for himself. Coward. 

Harry rushed to Hermione’s side, where she was struggling to stand up. “I’m fine Harry, I’m fine. ”She said slowly as she gained her footing. Then she flung herself into his arms. “I missed you so much!”   
Someone walked into the room and Hermione went full alert-mode once again. The intruder did nothing though. 

“Sir. We have comprehended two individuals, and a third one is dead in the living room.” He pointed with a thumb behind him. 

Hermione flinched without noticing. Who was that? “Cormac?” Hermione asked warily still on edge, and he nodded. “We believe so, yes.” 

“Fuck. Thank you, Simon. We have one here as well,” Harry nodded towards the corner. “Marcus Flint, bound and gagged.”

Hermione felt a sudden jolt in her hip and leaned onto Harry, not to fall. 

“You okay there?” He asked as he felt her body pressed to his. 

“Yeah, just tired. Can we go? Please?” Her entire body ached from exhaustion and she couldn’t keep her eyes off of the stranger standing in front of her. She felt the air blowing through the broken window behind her and breathed in, taking comfort in the coldness seeping over her alert and overheated body. 

“Yes, definitely. I’m taking her to the ministry Simon, see you there.” He took Hermione’s hand and went to leave the room through the door. 

“Sure thing, boss. You can apparate from in here though. The curse-breakers arrived with us, to pull down any spells attached to the area.”

“Thank you Simon. Ready?” He asked, and apparated them both out when she confirmed.


	9. Chapter 9

Hermione clung to Harry as they arrived at the apparation point that was connected directly to the Department of magical Law Enforcement. She felt dizzy and nauseous, and desperately needed to lie down. She stumbled as they walked out into the hallway to get to Harry’s office, but was caught by him before she hit the ground.

“I know you’re exhausted ‘Mione. We just need to get to my office, and you can lie down, alright?”

“Thank you.” She breathed out. She felt her legs move on their own account towards the office, moving past cubicles and aurors. While it seemed that all eyes were on her, her world was suddenly moving in slow motion. She felt light-headed and feverish even though she was still freezing from lying on the cold floor in the cabin. Merlin she couldn’t wait to lie down.

“Hermione?” A voice called in front of her. Well he was standing at the end of the hall so he wasn’t really that close yet she still knew exactly who it was. 

Even though there were people moving all around them in the busy department, she could never not see the group of 4 people standing together like they had been discussing something important that no one else was supposed to hear. The world was still moving so awfully slow when she moved out of Harry’s supporting arms and stepped, albeit a bit haphazardly and stumbly, towards Neville, Ron, Ginny and George.

“‘Mione, you’re bleeding!” 

Harry’s words were in a haze as she advanced, though she didn’t have to see him to know that he was deeply concerned. Perhaps it was his tone of voice that made her stop, and look down upon herself. Her blood was rushing in her ears and her head was hurting like someone was smacking her with a sledgehammer. “I’m not bleedi-” She stopped mid-sentence as she saw the red mark on her leg, slowly going larger and darker for every second she was looking at it. “It’s...Just a scratch...” She whispered and made to turn around again, but her head was spinning and then she was falling.

“Healer! Call for a healer! I’ve got you ‘Mione, I’ve got you!” Harry said, his voice coming from the distance. She felt hands on her, searching her. The voices came from people that she knew put couldn’t put into the right places.

“George...” She murmured without realizing it. Who was George? 

“Here love, I’m right here. Stay awake for me baby, don’t close your eyes!” She blinked a couple of times willing her eyes to stay open like the man - her man - told her to. But it was so hard. “Come on, love. The healer is on its way.” 

Her hand reached up on its own and tenderly touched his cheek. She was surprised to see blood on his cheek. “You’re bleeding...” She whispered. 

It looked like he was surprised, when he furrowed his brows and touched the cheek where her hand had just been. “I’m not the one bleeding.” His voice cracked for some reason that she didn’t understand, “You are...” 

“No-no, I’m fine... just a scratch...” Her eyes started fluttering shut again, Merlin she was so damn tired. 

“No Hermione, don’t close your eyes! Don’t you dare close your eyes!” The man yelled at her repeatedly. But she wasn’t sure what he was saying. Of course, she wouldn’t close her eyes, she liked talking to him after all. He was so nice. 

…… 

Ginny and George were standing outside the meeting room, in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Neville and Ron had been in there for the past half an hour while he and Ginny had been walking circles out in the hallway. They had all left Hogwarts with the potion that would take Harry to Hermione, the moment Slughorn had finished it. Harry, Neville and Ron were the only ones allowed to be in their as they were the aurors, which was why the brother and sister not stood side by side with their backs against the wall. The room had been silenced and warded so that no one would know what was going on. It seemed like this was the most secret, yet most important mission of the year for the entire department; But no one knew that. 

“I hope she’s alright...” Ginny mumbled, as she slid down the wall all pulled her legs up and hugged them to her. 

“She has to” George whispered, more to himself than as a reply to his baby-sister. “She will be okay, Ginny. Hermione is coming home tonight.” He said, with more determination in his voice. Perhaps he was only trying to convince himself. 

George wasn’t sure what the time was, but it must have been 3AM or something like that. He really couldn’t care less as long as he got his girl back. He had always known that the DMLE never slept and that there were loads of people working here, yet the amount of people rushing past them at all times were incredible. It was almost like rush hour in the shop. 

Ginny having realized what George was looking at, answered the unsaid question; “Harry told me at some point, that it’s normally not this busy at this time. But it seems that no one wants to be alone on Memorial Day, so a list is always put up a few months in advance, and people can write their names on if they plan on working today. The department buys food and they have a couple of mind-healer-apprentices here as well. It seems that even the strongest need to be cared for sometimes.” She said the last part with a hand on his leg, giving it a slight squeeze. 

“Amazing” He said. He’s own life had passed in a blur the past 3 years. He wasn’t ignorant, of course there were people who was hurting and had lost more than he had. But he was in awe of the work the ministry was putting into making sure their employees had a somewhat good mental health. Maybe he should consider suggesting the same for his own employees. 

But what would happen when she returned? She would need to be checked over by healer and a mind-healer. He knew that he would get a different Hermione back, but would she still care about him like she used to? And where would she live? At his place, or Harry’s? At the burrow? Would she start working in the ministry again when she was ready? There was so much to take into consideration - but he would be by her side through it all. 

Merlin, he missed her so much! 

He was pulled from his thoughts when the door to the meeting room was opened. Ginny scrambled to her feet when Neville and Ron walked out to join them, maintaining the facade that everything was as it was supposed to. 

They huddled together as Ron started speaking in a hushed tone. 

“Harry left right after we closed the door. We put a tracker on him for us to know where we should send the spell-breakers and aurors. They left about 25 minutes ago, and we are currently waiting on more information." 

"Do we know anything about what's going on, where ever they are?" Ginny asked, looking around on the three men. 

Neville and Ron looked at each other, not uttering a single word though it looked like a full conversation was passing between them. 

Neville finally decided to speak up; "We don't fully know what's going on. But we know that someone is full on stalking her and following her every move. We just don’t know who it is, though we believe it to be someone who has ties to what happened at Malfoy Manor." Ginny gasped and covered her mouth. 

George knew how there had been something going on, but since no one but Ginny knew of their relationship until recently, he was never told the details. 

When Hermione ran, he had desperately hoped that she would find peace on some beautiful Island with boozy cocktails and clear blue water for swimming. He really just wanted her to be happy and find peace, even if it wasn’t with him as part of her life. Obviously, he had been wrong.

"I just hope she's alright..." he whispered, suddenly feeling goosebumps all over his body. 

He looked up and saw the woman of his dreams stumbling through a door, only to be saved by Harry Potter. The others had started talking again, but must have realized that his attention was elsewhere, as they stopped again. All of them standing in complete silence as if petrified. 

His Hermione. His love. Oh, Merlin he had missed her every single day since she had disappeared. She was finally home again. Home where he could love and take care of her. Finally, she was home where he could prove to her that he had never wanted or craved another woman’s touch or love, but hers. 

I love you. 

“Hermione?” He asked. He knew it was silly, but everything in him was telling him to make sure before he rushed forward. Make sure that she was okay, make sure that it was in fact, her. It looked like her, but something was off.

She looked up and it didn’t take long for them to lock eyes. They might as well have been alone in the world as everything else seemed to disappear, yet he knew that everything was as it used to be. He looked on, unable to move, as she stepped away from Harry and towards him. But something was wrong. She wasn’t walking properly and she seemed to have been hurt in some way. Seeing the blood on her shoulder and leg finally brought him out of the haze and he ran towards her. 

“‘Mione, you’re bleeding!” Harry declared. How had he not seen that if he had been with her for the past 30 minutes?! 

She stopped as suddenly as she had started walking and look down upon herself. Her hand touched her leg where she was obviously bleeding and looked at the hand afterwards, like she wasn’t quite use of what she was seeing. She said something directed at Harry, but he wasn’t close enough to hear it. 

She whispered something again and made to turn around again, but lost her footing and then she was falling - right into George’s arms.

“healer! Call for a healer god Damnit! We’ve got you ‘Mione, we’ve got you!” Harry yelled at no one in particular. George laid her down on the ground with her head in his lap, caressing her cheek and removing the adorably, wild hair from her face.

“George...” She murmured so faintly that he almost missed it. He had missed hearing his name on her lips. 

“Here love, I’m right here. Stay awake for me baby, don’t close your eyes!” She blinked a couple of times like she wasn’t really seeing him. Was she hallucinating? She seemed to be losing the battle of keeping her eyes open, “Come on, love. The healer is on its way.” 

Her hand suddenly reached up and tenderly touched his cheek, and without realizing it he leaned into her touch. But she retrieved it quickly and his mind was screaming at her; No, don’t let me go! Stay with me! “You’re bleeding...” She whispered, her voice raw. 

Surprised, he touched the cheek where her hand had just been and felt something smeared on his fingers. taking a look, he noticed that it was in fact blood, only, it wasn’t his. “I’m not the one bleeding.” His voice cracked, “You are.” 

“No-no, I’m fine… just a scratch.” Her eyes started fluttering again. No this can’t be happening! I just got her back! He looked to Harry for answers but got nothing as the man was trying to get his department under control after while looking out for the healer. 

“No Hermione, don’t close your eyes! Don’t you dare close your eyes!” He sobbed at her, willing his word to keep her awake. To keep her alive. 

But his efforts were in vain as her hand that had somehow grabbed a hold of his arm, went slag and fell to the ground. 

“No… no, no, NO!” He sobbed as his voice cracked again. “Harry! HARRY!”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning!!: This chapter contains rape, torture, mental illness and talk of previous abortion.

Dark.

Pitch dark.

Wonderful darkness enveloping her.

Was this death?

Death felt good.

She could stay here. She wanted to stay here, forever. She could be perfectly happy here.

Suddenly she heard a hum of some sort. Like a distant voice, but not really. She wasn’t sure what it was, but it felt… pleasant, somehow. Like the first sip of Butterbeer on a cold day. She felt warm inside, but still cold, oddly enough.

Then out of nothing she felt her arm heating up while the hair on her arm stood up. She felt goosebumps creeping up her arm from where she felt the warmth connect with her body. What was going on?

Then, as soon as it started, it stopped. No! No, come back! She didn’t know what was going on, but the warmth felt good on her, and she wanted it back. Her wish came true when she felt the contact on her leg, once again. Only this time, it was accompanied by searing pain and the humming increasing in volume. But she didn’t understand the humming, and it was just plain noise in her ears, making her move from comfortable silence to tinnitus that was giving her a violent migraine. Bittersweet, she tried removing the heat from her leg so she could get better, but was rewarded with a violent... shove? That made her fall backwards, and now she was lying down. No! She was being held down. Why couldn’t she move?!

Then the searing pain stopped, and the warm sensation disappeared. She breathed out a sigh of relief and looked upwards.

She felt content again. She could stay here. She wanted to stay here. Forever.

The darkness was so beautiful. How had she ever been afraid of the dark? The rational part of her brain told her that one was never afraid of the darkness itself, but merely the fact that you never knew what was hiding in the darkness.

But she was alone. She liked being alone. There was no danger here.

As she thought about this, a sudden burst of light sprung out above her. Like a beautiful golden firework. The firework disappeared and another sprung out to her right. It went like that for what felt like days. She was lying on her back in the wonderful darkness that felt like it was hugging her, while she watched the golden firework exploding above her, while slowly escalating.

Abruptly, one of the fireworks exploded and everything turned bright. It wasn’t like the sun that rose slowly in the horizon giving life to the world. It was more like opening your eyes too soon after sleeping in, only to realize that it was half past one in the afternoon.

She remembered someone telling her that when he had died, he had gone to some great white train station, where he had met this great… Wizard? And the Wizard had given him the answers he needed to move forward.

Was this her ending? Was she meeting a great white wizard who would answer her questions?

The humming that had disappeared with the heat on her leg, suddenly started again. Only this time, she heard words, without understanding what was said.

She knew that she should understand it, but she simply couldn’t. It was like the words were said in a language that she had tried to learn, but had failed at.

The goosebumps started again, but they weren’t just coming from one place. They came from everywhere. She felt warmth spreading all through her body.

She felt like sleeping. She was so sleepy all of a sudden. But the white firework was so blinding.

“Hermione?” The humming started making sense, but she was so confused. What was Hermione? Was she a part of a Shakespeare-play?

“Harry!” A...Male? voice called out. She tried opening her eyes, but they were like glued shut.

Panic.

She should open her eyes! Why couldn’t she open her eyes?!

“Step back, everyone!” A female voice called out “Hermione. You’re at St. Mungo’s, just try to relax and everything will be okay.”

The voice was so soothing, and she felt something heavy being draped over her. This time though, she smelled gunpowder and apples, and she was happy as she fell asleep.

What she didn’t notice though, was the word “George” slipping from her lips in a sigh.

…..

It was so dark in here, just as she knew it would be. She wouldn't be able to see the breath coming from her mouth when you exhaled and it was cold. So bloody cold. But she knew that they were there. Both the mist, and her hand reaching out as far as it would come, hoping to scare away whatever (or whoever) was hiding in the dark.

A laugh rang out somewhere to her right and she jumped as far away as her chain would let her.

"Are you scared of the dark, girl?" it was the same voice every time. The same voice, with the same question. But… why was it the wrong question? He was supposed to ask about the-

"Repartum mortem!".

She screamed as loud as she could without realizing it, as she felt her eyes being cut out. No one would hear here, she knew that. Someone was bound to after so many days being in this god-forsaken dungeon.

He would keep it up like that, spell after spell until he was wheezing for air and moaning in pleasure.

Sometimes it would be after three or five torture-sessions, sometimes it would only take him one or two, but he would always finish what he started.

She knew what was to follow, and for everything in the world, she wished that he would wield the wand once more - just once more.

He dropped his wand back in his pocket and moved towards her with steady steps while holding his groin.

“You want this, don’t you, you filthy little cunt?” He growled at her.

She whimpered as an answer and pulled as far away from him as her chain would once again allow her. “No, no, no, no…” She whispered, “Please don’t. Please. I’ll do anything.”

“Pleading won’t get you anywhere, girl. You belong to me!” He pulled at the chain that was locked around her neck, and she was violently thrown to the floor towards him. She started pulling at the chain. Anything to get away from him and what was to come. But it was all for nothing. He had held the chain in a steady grip while freeing himself of his pants, followed by him grabbing a hold of her leg that was forcefully kicking in the direction of him, trying to hit anything of importance. But he had caught her foot and had pulled her to him where he had forced himself on her naked body, like he owned every right to it. Like she was his property.

She would be screaming, and kicking and scratching as best she could all through the affair but it would never help her.

When he was finished, he would leave her on the ground, bleeding and half-conscious. It was the same routine every time, no matter the count a day. Sometimes he would contaminate her body four or five times a day, and sometimes he would only come by once every two or three days. Thankfully, he was the only one raping her. The others took to kicking and beating her, slicing her up, torturing her with that awful spell or the crucio.

But they had also taken to using a muggle torture-technique that involved lights (or lack thereof). They would turn on the bright halogen-lights in the room and leave them on for what felt like days at a time, only to turn it off, and leave her in this full-on-darkness for approximately the same amount of time. She knew about this technique as she had read about it at one time back home, but she had never thought possible that she would be a victim to it.

It was horrible. She was either held in a haze where she wouldn’t be able to relax properly because it was too bright, and therefore she could not sleep. Or, It was too dark and therefore she had no idea if anyone was in the room, without concentration on the sound in the room - therefore, not getting any sleep either.

On what must be day nine or ten, an unknown person entered the room. It was on one of the “dark days” as she referred to them as, and she knew the second the door opened that it definitely wasn’t Greyback. She could smell his cologne and hear his strained breathing, like he himself was doing something he shouldn’t be doing.

Could he be helping her escape? No. That would be too much to hope for. She would never get out of there alive.

He walked to her with slow steps, like he was taking it all in. Or maybe because he wasn’t sure himself, where she was in the room?

When he made it to her, she felt as the tip of his boot hit her leg, and she heard him snickering. “There you are, little bird.” She only just raised an eyebrow in confusion at the nickname before he kicked her square in the stomach. She screamed and gasped for air as all the oxygen she had in her body, left her in an instant. She felt him grabbing the collar around her neck and he pulled her flush up against himself. He kissed her forcefully, but when she bit back and tasted blood, he retaliated immediately.

With the hand that wasn’t grabbing her collar, he took a hold of her hair and pulled her head back, exposing her neck.

“You’re mine, and I’ll take you if I bloody well want to. I’ll make damn well sure, that if you ever get out of this hole alive, that I’ll find you. I’ll always find you. You belong, to me.” He whispered the last part, before licking her neck slowly, and threw her back hard against the wall. “If I can’t have you, no one else will. I’ll kill everyone you love!”

....

“NO!” She yelled abruptly and sat up. She grabbed whatever was around her and pushed herself as far away as possible, as she saw blurred movement all around her. “No,” She said, followed by whispering, “Don’t... don’t... ” She yelled, and moved her legs up and cradled them to her chest while trying to fan anyone, or anything that might attack her, away. When the sleep began to disappear from her eyes and her brain decided to wake up, she began to take in the room and the people around her. She was rocking back and forth, a hand cradling herself and the other still outstretched towards nothing in particular. What in Merlin’s name was going on?

She locked eyes with the black-haired man standing closest to her, “What was the last thing you told me, before I left?” Her eyes never left his as he answered with a smile almost instantly; “I’m going to propose to her. Do you think she’ll have me?”

She breathed out in relief and looked to the sealing as she felt tears prickling in the corner of her eyes. She blinked fast a couple of times, willing them to stay hidden for a little while longer. “Where am I?”

“St. Mungo’s. You have a private, warded room, and no one knows that you’re here besides us,” He moved his finger between himself and George who looked like he was about to explode, “Neville and Ginny. Neville is outside, making sure that no one enters. Ginny is at home.”

George looked towards Harry and asked; “Perhaps you can go get the healer, Harry?”

Harry looked towards Hermione, and when she nodded her consent, he left the room.

She was about to say something, when George beat her to it; “Before you say anything… can I just... hold you? Just for a moment?” He looked so miserable and out of place. She nodded at him, with a slight smile. “Yes. Yes, I’d like that.” She moved a bit clumsily to the side of the bed, making room for him.

He walked to her, slowly, while keeping his eyes on her. Surveying her. Making sure that she wouldn’t jump if he came nearer. When he made it to the bed, he removed the hand nearest himself from the other, as it had been scratching at her wrist maniacally.

“You okay?” He asked, still standing holding her hand.

She looked at him for a few seconds, pondering the question. Was she okay? An uninvited tear slit down her cheek and she shook her head. “No.” a quiet sob escaped her, “No.”

George sat down on the bed beside her, moved his left hand behind her back prying her body into his, while the other hand embraced her. “You can cry, baby. I’ll take care of you. I always will.” And she cried, finally feeling the security of her love. Her Red. She had been so lonely, for so long. Not even the short period of time she had spent with Cormac had lessened her feeling of endless isolation. She cried for the way she was treated, for the things she had to go through alone, and for the people she loved - who were now in danger once again. This time though, she knew she had to deal with it. Seeing the bulletin-board in the basement, made her realize that she had never actually been “alone”, but that they had always been with her. somehow, they had known about her ward and where she was going, every time she went somewhere. It didn’t matter whether she had used magical transportation or not. They had always been there.

When her crying finally subsided, she whispered a “thank you” at George, wanting him to know her gratitude.

“Anytime, Curly. I’m just glad that I can finally comfort you after so long. I’m so sorry you felt you had to leave - but I understand why you did.” He kissed the top of her hair, and held her a little firmer. “I’ve missed you so much...” His voice cracked, and Hermione looked up at him with puffy, red eyes.

“I know, I’ve missed you too. So much...” She caressed his cheek, letting him feel her love. “I’m sorry we didn’t really get a chance at life… can we...” Her voice was filled with emotion, as a small sob escaped her. “Oh god, not again.” She took a deep breath and looked towards the ceiling, trying to gather her strength while gaining control of her treacherous emotions. “Can we try again?” Her damn voice cracked and she finally snug a glance at him, “I’ve never given up on us...”

“Oh love.” He bent down and kissed her, putting everything he had into the small sign of passion. “I didn’t give up on us either... You were always on my mind. After so long, you never left me.” He took her hand that had been cradled to his chest, and moved it upwards till she could feel the ring underneath his shirt. She moved forward and kissed it.

“I love you, so much, George” She whispered and cradled herself closer to his chest. To the beating heart. To the place where she felt at home.

A couple of minutes later, a soft knock brought them out of their bubble when Harry and a Healer entered.

“Hello Hermione, I’m glad you’re awake. My name is Hillary Magnus, and I’m your personal healer. Can you sit up for me?” The woman had strawberry blond hair with kind green eyes, and Hermione instantly liked her. She removed her body from George’s and sat up. Meanwhile George rose from the bed and took a few steps away to not be in the way, but she knew exactly where he was in the room, at all times.

The healer moved a light in front of her eyes, checked the bandage on her leg (that Hermione hadn’t realized was there), put a hand on each side of her face and moved her head around carefully, while telling Hermione to let her know if she felt any discomfort. When all of this was done, she told Hermione to lay back down, and the healer performed a spell on her chest. The spell gave some sort of small tornado rising from her chest. The tornado was completely white throughout the whole ordeal, though there were numbers and signs coming out of it that she didn’t know the meaning of. When the spell was done, Hermione was told that she could sit if she wanted.

“Any information that I will give you now is strictly confidential to your own person. Is there anyone you want in the room, or someone you want to leave, before we proceed?” She asked the last question with kindness and sympathy, and when Hermione shook her head in response, Healer Magnus continued.

“Alright. I don’t know if you remember, but I was actually the healer who saw you over after the war ended.” She looked towards Hermione, who furrowed her brows and lightly nodded her head once again, ”perfect, then let me tell you this... It is the first time in all my years as a healer, that I have seen a person who has been on the run for one reason or another, for as long as you have, and lose as little weight as you have. I would be proud, if it weren’t for the circumstances.” The woman gave her a slight smile, and then turned the page in the binder Hermione hadn’t realized that she was holding.

“When you were emitted to the ICU 3 days ago, you had a rather large piece of glass stuck in your leg. You had been hit by a slicing-jinx to the shoulder which did minimal damage, but had besides that also taken a spell to the hip, which was why you have been unconscious. The spell would over time have made you stumble a lot, lose the ability to focus, give severe hallucination, lose consciousness from time to time, and would - if not ended - have meant you dying because of too high blood pressure and your brain having to work at five times its normal speed. Fortunately, someone was near you when you lost consciousness and therefore, we removed the spell in due time and there will be no after effects in the future. Now, that was the easy part.” The healer looked at her and Hermione saw something in her eyes, that she hadn’t seen in a long time. Pity.

“Please continue.” Hermione said, though the confidence was lacking in her voice. She knew what was coming, and she also knew that it was due time someone knew, other than herself.

“Sure. Everything, or only the post-war information?” She asked.

“Everything.” Hermione answered, this time with her voice full of confidence, “They need to know, and I need to have someone else know.”

“Okay. Gentlemen, during the time that I inform you of all of the details you will remain quiet, and should you wish to leave the room, you can. But the information you will be receiving, is not to be told to anyone else without Miss Granger’s acceptance. Do you understand?” She looked to each of them for confirmation, and when they nodded their acceptance, she continued.

“When Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley and yourself, Mr. Potter, were separated at Malfoy manor, Hermione went through 2 weeks of torture on her body and mind, was beaten, was exposed to light-and-darkness-torture and was raped. The torture happened multiple times a day, and was often followed by rape. The person who would do these things to her, was more often than not, Fenrir Greyback. For some reason that we do not know, she was never bitten. I assume you both know what happened in the main room before you were rescued?” both men, who looked at the brink of vomiting all over the place, nodded once again. “After the battle, we determined that above all, you were underweight and malnourished. We also determined that you had been hit with some sort of tracker-spell which we removed. We can see now though, that they must have had other means of keeping track on you.”

She looked towards Hermione before giving the next piece of information, seeking her consent. When Hermione nodded once again, she continued. This brave, brave girl went through hell on earth, and still managed to sit there without any extreme emotions showing. She would probably need to see a mind-healer for the rest of her life, for her not to go insane...

“It also seemed that when she left Malfoy Manor, she was pregnant.”

Both men had been standing in each part of the room with their eyes locked either on a spot on the wall or on the floor. but now, gasps filled the room and their heads whipped towards Hermione.

“‘Mione... you never said that...” Harry said, while George moved to go to her bed, but was stopped momentarily when he saw her face.

“Love?” He asked, concern evident in his voice.

“I-I don’t... Pregnant?” She looked at the Healer, who looked back at her in confusion.

“Yes, very much so. You don’t remember?” She tilted her head. Was this how the girl had survived? “Do you by any chance have, something like... Dark spots - maybe blurry moments? Things that are sort of... missing? In your memories? Something out of place?” She pulled forth a pen and started taking notes.

“Yes. But I only just realized within the last month or so. Everything that comes up seems to be connected to the manor, though.”

“Well I’m not surprised. You went through some shit, sweetpea.” She took some more notes, before continuing in a business-like manner, “I think you might have what in the muggle world is known as Dissociative Amnesia. It is when the body is submitted to multiple nasty traumas, the mind itself makes some sort of seal that protects the owner from the bad things that happened, and therefore makes one forget glimpses or whole situations of what happened. They can return over time, of course, some by chance and others by extensive therapy. Some are lost beyond recovery.” She studied the girl in front of her for a second before continuing, “But you don’t have to worry about the pregnancy though. You had it removed right after your check-up. There were no complications.” The Healer gave her an assuring mile, and asked, “Should we perhaps take a break before we continue? I understand that this is a lot to take in for all of you.”

Hermione sat silently, and peered over her knees at the Healer. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Harry and George making eye contact, probably having some sort of nonverbal conversation.

“Hermione?” Healer Magnus asked once again.

“Yes. Sure. Fine.”

“‘Mione?” Harry asked. She could feel him moving closer to her, as she slid down on the bed and curled up under her blanket. “How do you want to go on after today? Do you want the public to know what has… happened?”

“No. For god’s sake no; I’m fine with them knowing that I’m back and that I ran because of severe stalking. But I don’t want anyone to know any details. I didn’t have a choice back then other than running, so I’m taking it now. Those are my secrets, and mine alone.” Her voice had risen rapidly, until the very last part that came out as almost a whisper. If there was one thing she had understood within this past week, it was that she had never been entirely alone since they were at the manor. Someone had always been two steps behind her every move. Every breath she had taken, someone had been close enough to almost breath the same air as her. She felt cheated and filthy. A sudden heat crawled up her neck and she felt sick to her stomach.

“Healer Magnus, is there somewhere for me to take a shower?” She needed to be clean. She needed to get rid of the filth that she felt all over her body.

“Through that door,” She pointed to the far side of the room, “is a private bathroom. Use it as you like, and I will be back in a couple of hours. Should you need to, there is a red bottom by each door you can use to call for any kind of assistance.” Hermione nodded and thanked her for her help. “No problem dear, no problem at all.” She gave Hermione a warm smile before nodding her head at Harry and George, before leaving the room.

“Would you be alright if I went to the ministry to take care of the formalities? Or I can stay if you need me to...”

“No, it’s fine Harry. Do what you need to do,” She got out of the bed and walked to Harry on unsteady feet, embracing him slowly and assuringly. “I’ll stay here till you get back. I promise.” She looked up at him only seeing doubt and sorrow, before kissing his cheek and whispering, “I promise, Harry.”

She stepped away and looked back towards George who stood awkwardly by the bed with a hand on the back of the chair, looking like he’s much rather be anywhere else. “Will you still be here when I come out?” She asked with a small voice. The last thing she wanted was to scare him away when she had finally gotten back to him…

“Of course. I’ll be anywhere you want me to, Curly.” He winked at her, but she could see the uncertainty in his face.

“Thank you,” She said, “I’ll be back in a minute... or maybe ten.” She finished with a shrug, and slowly closed the door behind her.

….

30 minutes had passed while he had waited for her to come back out, and the shower was still running. He got up and walked to the door where he stood and listened for a couple of minutes.

He knocked on the door, and asked; “Are you okay, in there?”

A sob. That was all he heard before he was tearing the door open and running the sound. What he didn’t expect to find, was her curled up against the side of the shower stall, with blood dripping down her body. He turned off the water and went to his knees in front of her.

“What happened, love?”

“I-” She sniffed and looked away, clearly embarrassed at being found in her current state. “I feel so filthy... but I can’t wash it off… it won’t disappear... “She stammered, and he could feel the sadness radiating off of her. “I can’t get it off!” She sobbed as she started itching at her arm once again with a desperation, he never thought he’d see outside the exam-period.

He quickly caught her arms and wrenched them away from each other, holding them loose but firmly to make sure she couldn’t continue the act. When she looked down at her arms in pure panic, he realized that she hadn’t meant to scratch herself. She was doing it without noticing.

“You can’t get it off like that, Love.” He said slowly, watching her fall apart in front of him, while he slowly let go of her arms. “It’s a cursed scar, and you already know that, in that beautiful head of yours. Let’s get you into bed and call for Healer Magnus. Maybe she can tell us something new about the curse, yeah?” He waited for her reply, and when she nodded her consent, he lifted her up and brought her to her bed. He used a drying charm on both of them, covered her up, and pushed the call-bottom. When he looked back at her, she had turned away from him and was looking towards the window.

“Please don’t shut me out...” He whispered, not knowing what else to say. She was finally home, and he was not losing her again - neither physically or mentally.

“I don’t mean to. I swear.” She answered, turning around in the bed, looking back at him with glassy eyes.

“But that’s the part that you don’t seem to understand!” He said, perhaps too loud, as he saw her flinching at his words. “I’m sorry... I know it will never be in the same way, but... We’re all hurting.” He said so low that she had to focus hard to hear him. “But when you’re around… When you’re around, everything seems to hurt a little less…” He looked towards the door, as there was a knock on the door and Hillary entered.

“Hello, how can I help?” She looked to Hermione as she walked towards her, not being able to see her bloodied body as it was covered up by the blanket. When she didn’t answer, she looked at George who answered.

“I found her coiled up in the shower, after she had tried to clean off her scars.” The Healer frowned and moved closer to Hermione, carefully lifting up the blanket from the left side of her body while maintaining eye contact with her. “Oh, sweet Merlin, dear.” She replied when she had taken a look at her arm, collarbone and abdomen. “It won’t come off that way... I’ll just get some potions, and then I’ll be back in a few minutes. Okay?”

“Yes, Healer Magnus.” Hermione replied automatically.

When she came back, Hermione had sat up in the bed and George was sitting at the side of it, silently holding her hand. He knew that the tension could not be broken right now, but they had to figure out how to move on from here, when she was somewhat well, again.

“I have quite a few potions for you at the moment. You will be taking a calming draught, a dreamless sleep potion, a healing potion, a pain potion and then I have an opportunity for you. This,“ She showed them a bottle with a clear liquid inside, “Is an experimental drug, that MAY help dissolve the curse. The only issue is that we don’t know whether it will help or not. We don’t know much about side-effects, either.”

“I’ll do it.” Hermione said without hesitation, “I’ll do anything to get rid of it, even if there’s only a small chance.”

“Fine. Here you go.” She handed Hermione the potions one by one, and watched her down every last one like it was water. “Try to get some rest. I have called for a mind healer that will visit you tomorrow and then we’ll take everything from there. Alright?”

“Yes. Thank you.” Hermione answered quietly with eyelids already drooping.

“Thank you for your help, Healer Magnus.” George said with a nod, and the Healer left once again after assuring him that Hermione was going to be okay with time.

He moved his chair to the bed and sat down, watching as Hermione fell asleep with a content sigh.


	11. Chapter 11

When she woke up once again it was bright, and the sun was streaming in through the two large windows to her left. At the opposite wall beside the door to the loo, was a clock which told her that it was just past 10:30. She sat up slowly and stretched. For the first time in way too long, she felt rested and relaxed. In the natural light, she saw things as if for the first time. She realized that the walls weren’t white as she had thought, but a soothing mixture of cream and peach. She was sitting in a wooden-framed elevation bed without the ordinary rails that one would find in a hospital, and beside her was a rather comfy-looking plush chair with a sleeping redhead. His head was resting on her bedside - one arm resting in his lap, while the other lay clumsily by his head like he had used it as a pillow but then changed his mind halfway through the motion.

She rested her hand on his hair and caressed it slowly while removing it from his eyes, taking in his features as she did. His brows had been a bit furrowed, but was now relaxing and he once again looked like the carefree man that she had fallen in love with.

“Mhhpleasedontstop..” He mumbled, and she chuckled quietly. “I’ve missed this..” He mumbled again, this time a little more coherent.

“So have I, but I really do need the loo.” She bent down and kissed the top of his head, extracting herself from the duvet and padding towards the door. 

“I’ll just go call Harry and check if there’s some food anywhere around here while I’m out there. I’ll be back in a moment.” He said offhandedly and stretched. She smiled reassuringly at him and closed the door behind her.

“Nice bum by the way!” He called offhandedly right before she heard the door open and close. She stood silently, as she realized that she was in fact, completely naked. Then she laughed lightly, and did what she had to do. 

When she came out again she had put on the tshirt and panties that she had taken with her, when she went to shower earlier that morning, and she was now standing alone - for the first time in multiple days. 

Absentmindedly she reached up and brushed her fingers over her scar, and stopped in horror. She felt tears well up in her eyes. Normally she would feel the raised and jagged scar. She would feel the wound that would never heal completely - yet she had to concentrate to feel anything other than smooth skin. When she looked down, she yelped in surprise and drew her arm nearer to examine it. The scar was definitely still there, but it had sunk into her skin, and was not much lighter than before - like it had healed many years ago, but was now nothing but a mere memory from the past. 

Tears silently streamed down her face, as she slowly sat down on the floor, cradling her arm. She would be able to go around in public without glamouring it. People wouldn’t be able to see it, and she wouldn’t be aware of it in the same way. She pulled up the hem of her shirt and dried her eyes, watching the outline of her tearstained eyes on it. She really had to stop this stupid emotion thing. She simply couldn’t keep crying every time something new happened. 

_Yes, you can. That’s what humans do!  
  
_ “Shut up, you don’t know what you’re talking about.” She whispered to herself as she stood up. 

When George arrived half an hour later with a tray of food she was standing by the window, looking out over the rooftops of London. 

“Hiya, love. The Healer said that you can’t eat solid food yet, so I brought you some soup. She said to, and I quote; (he put his fingers up in quotation marks) “eat, slowly”” He smiled at her and started to move the bowls off the tray and onto the table, but paused at her lack of response. “Hermione? Is everything alright?” 

She nodded, but he knew her better than that. He moved to her and stood behind her, his stomach and chest pressing into her back, and his arm around her, holding her.

"You know you can talk to me, right?” He said slowly, just loud enough for her to hear. 

“It’s almost gone...” She whispered, almost stumbling over the words to get them out. 

“What’s gone?” He asked, confusion evident in his voice. 

“My scar” She raised her arm for him to see. “I can hardly feel it” He stiffened behind her, and she could almost feel his breathing stop for a second. Then he slowly, so very slowly, raised his hand and softly caressed it. 

“That’s amazing...” He whispered. “I can’t believe it... How do you feel? Any side-effects?” He put his arm down and turned her around only to hug her into his chest. 

“Overly emotional... But I don’t know if that’s the potion, or just how I am right now, all things considered.” She said with a shrug. 

"hmm..." he hummed against her, his head resting on top of hers. "I think that may just be how you feel right now, but I guess we'll have to ask the doc, when she returns. But first; let's eat, shall we?" He took a step away from her, bowing his head and upper body slightly, in a formal business-like manner, with one hand behind his back, and the other outstretched towards her. She giggled and took his hand, letting him lead her to their lunch.  
  
“By the way,” George said after a couple of minutes of comfortable eating-silence. “Harry mentioned earlier that the rest of the gang might want to step by and say hello, if you wanted to. He made sure to point out a couple of times, but in the end that would be your decision alone, and it would be for as long as you would want to. I’m sure he’ll ask you himself once he gets here so that he can bring on the message himself, But I thought you might like the heads-up.”  
  


Hermione sat in silence for a moment, pondering what he had just told her. “I would like to see them.” She said, looking down at her fingers that had started picking at the opposite hand’s nails. A nervous habit she had gained some years ago. ”But... But I don’t know how I’ll feel once healer Magnus and the mind-healer leave again later. Do you think Harry can wait for an answer till then?” George had noticed her picking and grasped one of her hands in both of his. “Sweetheart, Harry would wait for the end of time for you. As would I, If you don’t feel up for it, then they’ll wait until you are.” 

“Thank you.” She said, and they finished their lunch in silence, never letting go of each other's hands. 

…

  
  
  
A couple hours later George went to grab a shower and some new clothes, while Hermione took a nap. He and Harry had taken shifts at her bedside so that she would never wake up alone, even though he had taken to being there most of the time anyway. Luckily, he and Harry got on very well, which meant that while they had been watching over her, they had had a lot of healthy discussions and debates. But the feeling of anxiety and fear that she would never wake up, had never left them. It had been like a constant blanket, pushing them down into desperation and misery. 

After he finished putting clothes on he grabbed his jacket from the back of a chair, and strolled down the stairs towards the back entrance of the shop. 

“Hello!” He said and waved at Verity as he passed the registry on his way to the back room.  
  
“Lee’s is in the potions room.” She replied, pointing her thumb offhandedly in the direction of the back room. “Yes, that’ll be 1 galleons and 4 knuts, thank you sweetie.” She said to the little girl buying what looked like half of their sweets. He laughed lightly to himself as he walked down the corridor. Today was a good day.  
  
“Mjellow.” He said to Lee when he entered and leaned on the table, trying to get a look at the content of the cauldron. “The Pimple Popper Potion’s looking a bit grey, or is it just me?”  
  
“No, you’re right. I suspect that the daisy-petals we received yesterday were not picked on a new moon. I already sent an owl to Flanders with the product issue complaint, and now I’m just trying to find a solution. Have you read the prophet this morning?” 

“Try adding a rose-thorn or two if it’s just the color that’s off, might work. No, I haven’t.” At his reply, his old friend tossed the paper over the worktable for him to read. The headline itself made him rip the paper open instantly. 

**_Golden girl is alive.  
  
_ ** _Yesterday evening, The boy who lived, and head of the Magical Law Enforcement Department, Harry Potter, held a press conference in the atrium of the Ministry for Magic. He informed the public that Hermione Granger was located and brought back to London, and is currently at St. Mungos receiving medical assistance. He pressed that she is okay, but will need time to heal and come back to her normal life once again._

_An anonymous source had informed us that the girl was brought to st. Mungos on the early hours of May 3rd, while unconscious and bleeding heavily. She was brought in after collapsing on arrival, at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.  
  
Hermione Granger disappeared from the face of earth at the end of June of 1999 and has been missing since then. Our sources tell us that she has been sighted at multiple locations around the world since then, every time appearing to be of great health, but always leaving behind a trail of death and/or obliviated muggles. _

_So the big question now is, what (or who?) is the golden girl running from, and why has she been moving from one country to the next trying to avoid all forms of confrontation?_

_For more information on the disappearance of Hermione Granger, turn to page 4.  
Statements and interviews from Harry Potter himself, and previous Classmates on pages 5 to 6, with Information of the loves, heartbreaks and life of Hermione, on pages 7 to 11.  
  
The Daily Prophet will gladly receive any information from the public about Miss Granger. A small wage can be paid, should the information be of particular significant.  
  
  
_

_The daily Prophet/Padma Patil._

“Bloody hell. I don’t even know why I’m surprised that they seem to know everything.” He shook his head and threw the paper back into the middle of the table.   
  
“I know. Some of those kids at the DMLE should really learn to shut up and mind their own business. How is she?” Lee asked, never raising his eyes from the cauldron that he was stirring in.  
  
“She’s fine at the moment…well, as fine as she can be right now, I guess. She’s pretty shaken up and emotionally all over the place. Not that I blame her after being alone for the better part of two years dealing with… dealing with all that dung.” Lee lifted his head out of the cauldron and raised an eyebrow at the tone in George’s voice. George shook his head lightly in response, putting his hands to his forehead covering his eyes and leaning in over the table. “I’m not supposed to tell you. It’s for her to tell, but…but saying that she went through hell and back isn’t that far off. Though, I’m afraid that what information we get when Harry and I return might be even worse. I want to be there for her and support her, but I’m fucking terrified. What If I can’t help her? What if I make it worse?”  
  
“Whoa mate, take it easy. You’ve been pining for her since you realized the size of her brain. Rest assured old man; you’ll be doing everything in your power to make her feel like herself again, and when it feels like you’re lacking? Then the rest of us will be there picking the both of you up off of the floor. Or taking the two of you out for a pint or three, just take a pick. It’ll be _fine_.” Lee moved around the table and pulled George away from it as well, holding him at arm's reach, “Now. Repeat after me: we _got_ this.” 

George nodded at his friend and business-partner and repeated the words as he was told, “We got this.” 

“Fantastic!” Lee grinned and clapped George’s chin, “Now go back to her, and give her my love while you’re there. Angie and I made her a bag of stuff including some all time favourites. Maybe it’ll help cheer her up.”  
  


“Sure. She might be up for some company within the next couple of days, but I’ll let you know.” he put up a hand and waved his goodbye before leaving the store.

He walked through Diagon Alley towards the public apparition point completely in his own state of mind not noticing anyone around him. Out of habit he nodded his head as hello at people he knew, but he didn’t notice it. It was like he was walking in a trance, like the way you come from one place to another without remembering walking the specific way and then thinking; how am I even alive? What if someone had run me over? What if I had walked into someone? 

His mind was on his Curly headed beauty. How was she really underneath her big fat armor? She says she’s better, but she looks gaunt and tired. How can I even help her? 

What if I only need her because I haven't seen her in so long? Like an animal that is starved and haven't eaten for a month? 

What if she doesn’t need me anymore? 

What if I’m not what she’s looking for anymore? 

What if she’s too broken to love me?

Before he knew it, he landed at the apparition point at St. Mungos and walked towards the doors that would take him to Hermione’s ward. 

He opened the doors and stopped mid step as he almost barreled a woman. Standing before him was Hermione’s healer who looked at him in surprise; obviously she had been startled by George as well. “Ah, mr. Weasley, I was just on my way to Hermione’s room. This,” she put her hand on the shoulder of a young man who stood beside her, “is Healer -” 

“Malfoy. Thank you Healer Magnus, we know each other.“


	12. Chapter 12

  1. Why is the potion working so fast? 
  2. What ingredients and steps were taken and used to make the potion? 
  3. Where do they get their ingredients? 
  4. Who made the potion? Are they trustworthy? 
  5. Am I being poisoned? 



_Note to self: Increasing headache behind the eyes and across the forehead._

_Note to self #2: get my glasses._

  1. Who is the mind healer? 
  2. How can it help me? 
  3. What will happen? 
  4. Will it hurt? 
  5. Am I going insane? 



Her train of thought just kept on going in a never-ending stream that flowed onto the page before her. She had tried to look for a book, crosswords anything really, to take her mind off of the problem lying ahead. She felt like she was losing her mind and the banging headache was definitely not helping her. She closed her eyes and massaged her temples lightly but was brought out of her thoughts by a small knock on the door. 

In through the door came a massive mess of black hair and a pair of round spectacles. 

“Hi, Harry,” She smiled at him. 

“Hey ‘Mione.” He smiled back at her and walked to the bed where he embraced her. “How’s it going? What’re you up to?” He asked and moved the paper at Hermione’s crossed feet before sitting down. ”I just saw Fred and the Healer by the entrance talking to some blond guy. I think I might know him from somewhere - but I’m not sure,” Out of habit, he picked up the piece of paper and started reading. 

“Just… Brainstorming my thoughts, I guess. I couldn’t find anything to do, so I tried letting it all go, like we did back in Dean’s forest.”

“That’s great!” He smiled up at her, and continued reading, “I mean -“ His eyes moved down the page and his eyebrows furrowed. She knew exactly what bulletpoint he was at. “Why do you think you’re going insane?” 

“The fact that I don’t remember my own -” She started nibbling at her lip and fumbled with a loose thread at the bottom of her shirt, “Harry, I don’t even remember being pregnant. There are even people that I know I should remember, But it’s just fog. I’m supposed to know certain things, yet I feel so dumb and insufficient all the time for _not_ knowing. Sometimes I get these thoughts like I’m remembering an important birthday or whatever, but then it slips away from me! It’s driving me nuts, Harry!” 

“Okay. Well, we can start off slowly and see if there might be any obvious holes? With your super-brain and my obviously dashing looks and ability to handle an entire auror-department, we can figure this out!” She was laughing by the end and he winked at her. “Sure, let’s see where this gets us.” She said smiling, and removed her piece of paper from the bed. She was about to remove the pen as well, but Harry grappet it instead, and pulled out a small notebook from his robes. She looked at him with a thousand questions painted all over her face. Why would he bring a notebook? 

“I can see the wheels turning in that pretty head of yours ‘Mione. Just relax. I’m technically at work right now, so I’m just taking notes if you should remember anything of importance.” He smiled reassuringly at her while leaning over and touching her cheek tenderly, “Is that okay?”

She leaned into his touch and closed her eyes for a moment, feeling his love for her seeping through their bond, and nodded. “I guess I just forgot about the real world where people have jobs they have to do. I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be, I know it’s not easy for you right now. But how about we get started?” He asked her, and moved a strand of hair behind her ear before removing his hand.  
  
“Let’s do it. What do you have planned?” She asked all business-like and Hermione-y, wanting to do her very best. 

“I was thinking we start out from the most recent and then just move backwards from there. So, what is the last thing you remember, before waking up here?” 

“Hmm… I think I remember floating… In darkness? And fireworks - everywhere. And… feeling really comfortable and nice. I remember smelling George - He smells like apples and Gunpowder.” She abruptly realized that she had said the last part out loud and embarrassingly covered her very-much-reddening-face. “Merlin, I said that out loud didn’t I?” 

Harry chuckled but assured her that he was absolutely fine with their relationship. “I just want you to be happy, Hermione. Nothing less.”

“Although that looks incredibly cozy, Potter, you might not want to poke around her brain before a professional has taken a look.” 

Harry must have sensed it before it happened, because it really happened too fast for any other logical explanation. The instant the very-well-known voice started talking, her head whipped towards it and Harry held one of her hands, while her other reached out towards the nightstand where her wand was supposed to be. 

“It’s okay ‘mione. It’s okay. He’s okay.” Harry said, slowly and with as much certainty as he must have been able to muster. 

“What in the actual fuck are you talking about Harry, and why does the ferret know I’m here?” She said, high enough for everyone in the room to hear, yet low enough for them to know that she would instantly rip out Malfoy’s throat if he came within 3 meters of her. She may be bedridden, but she could be deadly if she wanted - with or without a wand.

“I can clear that one up.” George said, “I was supposed to talk to you before the idiot (he pointed his thumb in the general direction of the blond, with a slight snort) came in here, but it seems he was too curious about your reaction - AGAIN, to wait in the hall.” He walked over to her, clearly being more relaxed around her than he was the day before. He sat down at the side of the bed where he wouldn’t sit on neither her nor Harry. He took a careful hold of her chin, and pried his eyes from Malfoy and to himself. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know that he would be here, but this isn’t as bad as you think.” A single tear leaked from her eye, and he removed it with his thumb before taking a hold of the hand that Harry wasn’t holding. 

“I know, love, I know. You both went to Hogwarts to finish 8th year, yeah? (She nodded) Did he do anything to you then? Anything at all? (she contemplated for a second, but then shook her head) Great. Since school, Malfoy became a mind-healer and potioneer, one of the best to be exact. He tore down the manor, built something new out there, and is now growing a lot of different ingredients that I buy from him for the shop. He has been under the loop for so long, that I don’t think the dude has ever been so clean in his life.” George smiled reassuringly and she heard Malfoy snort in the background, making her snicker. 

“If I’m not mistaken, he was also in on making the potion that revealed your location.” He removed his hand from her, and took off his ring, showing it to her. She gasped and her hand flew to her mouth, covering it. 

“You.. You’re wearing it?” She took a hold of her own ring in its chain. 

He nodded. “Night and day. Do you trust me, Curly?” 

“Always.” 

“Draco Malfoy is one of the good guys. It will probably hurt like hell, but will you let him help you? Harry, Healer Magnus and I, will be here the entire time, every time.” 

“You promise?” She said, her voice so small it could have come from anyone but her. But her big brown eyes boring into his, made no mistake.  
  
“I promise.” 

“Now that that’s covered, I need you guys to leave the bed and let me have a look at the patient.” Draco said, walking to the bed and holding his hand out for her arm. She looked questioning at him, but carefully laid her arm in his hand. 

“I see the potion worked - albeit, not completely. Any cold sweat? headaches? soreness? general uncomfortableness?” He was talking faster than she had expected, but she caught his thought flow instantly. He seemed to be so deep in thought and it was obvious he was comfortable in his field. He was pinching softly at the reminder of the scar and the outer-tissue, prodding and feeling. 

“Some increasing headaches, and then I just feel sort of... Overly emotional, I guess. But the headaches might as well be because I’ve been writing without my glasses. And the emotion could just be because of -”

“Overly emotional - how? Describe it to me.” 

She looked to George who nodded at her and mouthed “trust him” to her. If he trusted her former schoolmate, then perhaps she could, too? 

“Most of the time I feel... Fine? But then suddenly my head explodes, and everything starts to itch, like I need to get out of my skin to be - to be okay. I feel like I don’t “feel” enough, but then I feel too much. I’m not even sure if that makes sense…” She reached over and took the piece of paper that Harry had been reading earlier on, and gave it to Malfoy who instantly started reading. “Am I really going insane? It’s like there’s pieces of a puzzle missing, but every time I try to remember them, I lose it again. It’s right fucking _there_! Right at the tip of my tongue, but I can’t - I can’t - Why can’t I remember?” She was losing it, that much she was sure of. The tears were openly running down her cheeks, running with her mind and all the things that she was SUPPOSED to remember, but simply couldn’t... 

“I get it, trust me on this if it is the only time, you’ll ever trust me; I really do get it.” He breathed out like he was trying to calm himself, she looked up into his eyes which looked grey like a raging thunderstorm. “ _I trust you_ ”, she thought to herself. 

He looked over his shoulder at her healer, “did you do a locus-charm?” 

“I did. I found nothing apart from the glass in her leg. Did I miss something?”

“I don’t know. Maybe not. Hermione, I’m going to touch your neck and head. Let me know if anything feels uncomfortable or out of place. Okay?” He looked her straight in the eyes, and when he saw whatever he was looking for, he put a hand on each side of her face; the thumbs in front of her ears, index fingers behind and the rest of the fingers sprayed down her neck. She was surprised by how gentle he was, gentle and attentive. She pulled back slightly, and his hands were gone; put up, in front of her, palms up. “You okay? Did it hurt?” he asked. 

She shook her head and closed her eyes for a few seconds. “No, I-I’m fine. I was just surprised. I’m fine.” 

So very slowly, he put his hands back in their previous position. He started moving them gently around her neck-, jaw- and ear area. He moved her head from side to side, up and down. At some point he stood up and sat behind her once she had scooted forward to make space for him. 

“I’m getting nauseous… And slightly dizzy.” She said slowly, trying to stay upright. 

“In general, or was it just when i touched you.. here?” He asked while moving his hands back to their earlier location just inside her hairline, somewhere near her spine. 

“Just there.” 

“Can someone go grab something for Hermione to vomit in, She might do it.” He said to no one in particular. A few moments later, a small tub was placed in front of her. “Now, Hermione. This will probably be excruciatingly painful, or it will feel like it is getting hot. I don’t know. Prepare yourself for the fact that you might vomit, might faint, might end up paralyzed, or you might not feel a thing. Are you ready?”  
  
She took a deep breath and locked eyes with Harry, while whispering “I’m ready.” 

“Magnus, I need you in front of her, ready to catch her or keep her steady - whichever comes first.” His Colleague nodded, and moved without a word to sit in front of her patient. They had worked together on previous occasions and both knew how the other person worked and handled their patients most efficiently. 

“Weasley, Potter, while I have my hands on her, you will at no time what-so-ever, touch her, the bed or myself. This is experimental, and if I touch the wrong pressure-point, this could go very, very wrong. are we clear?” Both Harry and George nodded their consent. “Hermione; Try to sit as still as possible. This will take a maximum of 5 seconds if I’m correct. Please hold your breath if you can.” He took a deep breath and softly cracked his own neck, “Please count to ten for me, and then take a deep breath, and hold it.” 

“1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6… 7… 8-” 

“Hermione?” 

“What are you going to do?” She whispered. “I know I’m supposed to trust you, but if there’s a possibility I might be paralyzed after this shit, then I want to know about the details.” Her voice grew steadier. In the back of her mind, she knew that she was overanalyzing the hell out of the situation. But wouldn’t anyone? 

“I’m doing an incision into your brain to possibly remove an unknown spell or object.” He said, authority evident in his voice. “Any more questions, or are your schoolbrain back in full-functioning alert-mode?” 

“I don’t know if I can do it....” She half said, half whispered. Why was she so uncertain if this could really help her? If she had something foreign in her brain, then it needed to come out one way or the other. Right? “Is there any other way to do this? Someway… Safer?” 

“No. It needs to get done as fast as possible,unless you want to live with it. Seeing as we don’t know how long this has been inside you, we don’t know what we will happen, and we don’t know what it has damaged up until now. It _needs_ to go.” 

“10.” 

“What?” He was clearly taken aback by the certainty in her voice. There was no stagger this time. 

“JUST DO IT ALREADY!” She yelled at him, and felt a sharp pain at the back of her neck. She froze instantly, not because she wanted to but because she simply couldn't move. _This is it_. She felt the pain propelling down her spine, her headache intensified. _Did she just throw up?_

Then nothing. Her sweet, sweet nothing was back. 

…… 

  
  


“Don’t fucking move!” Draco yelled as he saw both Weasley and Potter moving closer out of the corner of his eye. Hermione had all but fallen into the ready arms of Magnus after emptying her stomach in the tub. Well, he _did_ like it when he was right. 

As if on cue, he found what he was looking for. With a simple twist of his wrist, he watched as the red flowing substance followed his wand out of the cut in her scalp and into the vial he had removed from his coat. He made quick work of checking one last time for any more substances that shouldn’t be there. Satisfied, he closed up the cut and healed it. 

He removed himself from behind Hermione and he and Magnus laid her down. They made eye contact, and with a nod he once again pointed his wand at his former classmate. “Renervate” He thought to himself, and saw her immediately waking up. She blinked a couple of times.  
  
“Before your brain starts processing, I need to assess the situation. Just do as I tell you and we will be done quickly.” She nodded and he went to her feet. 

“Please raise your right leg first, and then the left.” She did. 

“wiggle your toes,” She wiggled her toes.  
  
“Lift your right arm, and then the left afterwards.“ She did that as well. 

He pinched her leg without warning, and she yelped. “What the hell?!”

He snickered and started to explain. “Good news; Your body is working as it should, which means that the operation was a success. I extracted this from your brain (he showed her the vial with the flowing stuff in), and once we’re all done here I will examine it. Now to answer your questions, Which I am sure are many. Do you remember writing this?” He showed her the piece of paper she had written earlier and she nodded. 

“Some of the obvious questions has been solved. 

#1, I am the mindhealer,  
#2 and 3, I made your potion with ingredients mainly from my garden, but whether or not I am trustworthy or not will be up to you.  
#4, At this moment I am not sure why it worked this fast, but my guess is a fusion between the ends of gillyweed and poison Ivy picked within the second hour of a Bloodmoon.  
#5 (he put up his index finger to make a point) No, you are not being poisoned. If I wanted you dead, you would not be alive now considering where I have just had my wand.” He raised an eyebrow at her, challenging her to contradict him.

She sat up in silence, put her hands up in obvious surrencer and told him to “please continue”. He liked this Granger, but he really hoped that she would get some of her feistiness back with time. This semi-fragile person was no fun picking at. 

“#6 The potion is a modified healing potion combined with a strong pain potion. Five other ingredients - I mentioned two of them before - were used to strengthen its abilities against cursed objects or curses in general.  
7# Removing the substance from your brain may have opened up your memories, but we will find out about that in a moment. It could also result in you being more controlled emotionally. Any questions?”  
  
“What happened, before, when it all went black?” She asked, glad that he was taking the time to answer all of her questions.  
  
“You reacted to the pain of me opening up your skull, by vomiting and then fainting. Your reaction is normal and as we tested before, there was no damage to your spine or nerves. Only time will tell, how your mind will heal from whatever was inside of you. But apart from that, you’ll need some serious therapy-sessions based on what you’ve been through.” 

“What I’ve been through… How much does he know? I thought we had an agreement!” She yelled out to the room, perhaps more in the direction of Harry or Magnus. 

How much _did_ he know? Only what he had read in her journal prior to this meeting, but it seemed she wasn’t aware of that. Magnus interrupted his thoughts. 

“He knows that I gave you the potion yesterday for your scar, as he was the one to make the potion. Other than that, he can only have read what was in your file from ‘98 as the rest is only in my personal notes right here.” She lifted a notebook for Hermione to see, and the brunette visibly relaxed. 

“Is there something here that I should know about?” He said, slightly irritated that he was being held in the dark for something he maybe ought to know. 

“How much do you plan on being involved in my wellbeing and recovery while I am here?” Hermione asked him straight out, her eyes cold as steel. Had he ever seen her as determined before? Definitely not since the battle. 

“For as long as you lot will let me, it seems.” He answered after a moment's silence. 

“Swear to it.” Hermione whispered.

“What?” He must have heard her wrong. She couldn’t possibly-

“You heard me. Make the unbreakable vow. Me being here, does not only concern me, but also my friends and those I consider family.” 3rd time’s the charm it seems. Even now, he would do anything for her friendship. What in the bloody hell had he gotten himself into this time? 

“Do it then.” He walked straight to her and put forth his arm for her to take. When no one in the room except for Hermione moved, he barked at them: “Somebody do the bloody spell so we can get back to work. I won’t stand here all day.”

Harry pulled out his wand, took a while to think of his words and then pointed his wand to where he and Hermione were now clasping each other's wrists. He silently did the spell and a glowing bond appeared around their arms and hands. 

“Do you, Draco Lucius Malfoy, swear to never speak of anything seen or heard inside these walls, to anyone but us?” 

“I do.”

  
  
“Do you swear, to never reveal the location of Hermione Jean Granger, for as long as she or anyone else can be harmed, because of its revelation?”

  
  
“I do.”

“And do you swear that you, to the best of your abilities, will aid Hermione, George and I with information, should it possibly help in bringing back Hermione’s full freedom?” 

“I will.”

Harry ended the spell and the glow disappeared for their linked arms. He let go of her and flexed his fingers. Nothing really felt different… Yet he recognized that everything he thought he knew, was about to change.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the exceptionally long wait, my writers-block was harder to get over then I wanted to.. But, here goes! I hope you enjoy this chapter.

She sat on her bed leaning into George’s side, as they watched Healer Magnus and Harry explain everything to Malfoy. She found it incredibly odd and interesting listening to other people talking about her and her story like she wasn’t in the room. Malfoy looked like the definition of focus while he listened, nodding, raising and furrowing his brows at specific times as reactions to what he was told. Obviously trying to take every mundane detail in.

When they were done telling him everything, he was given Healer Magnus’ notebook, which he read silently over the next 30 minutes.

“Do you have time to prod around the other part of her brain now?” He asked Harry afterwards.

“My entire work-schedule revolves around Hermione today.” He told the blond matter-of-factly before turning to Hermione, “What do you say ‘Mione? Want to try again?”

She sat silently for a moment, contemplating how she felt physically. “How about lunch, first?” Healer Magnus jumped in, eyes on Hermione. “Considering how exhausting this is probably going to be, I think she’s going to need something to eat.” Hermione smiled back at Magnus and nodded in agreement. Thank god, she thought to herself as her stomach rumbled its agreement.

“I vote in favour. Let’s meet here again in an hour, shall we?” Harry answered and left to pick up something for Hermione, George and himself. Magnus and Malfoy each went their own way after agreeing.

George and Hermione sat in silence for a moment, before her inability to keep her thoughts to herself kicked in once again. “What’s going to happen?”

“After lunch?” He asked, not sure what exactly she wanted to know.

“After… What happens when I have to leave this room? When I go to Diagon alley for the first time? Where will I live? What about work? What about -”

“Hey, don't worry about it love, we’ll figure it out. Right?” When she didn’t immediately answer or react, he reached his hand down and tugged her closer to him, by her neck with his hand half-buried in her hair. “I do have a suggestion, though. If you want to hear it.”

She looked up at him and she was sure he could see every emotion in her eyes, “What is it?” she asked.

“How about - When Healer Magnus has cleared you to leave - you either go to stay with Harry and Ginny or at the Burrow? Or you could come stay with me… Only if you want to, of course! I’d never pressure you into move in -” He was silenced by her lips gently touching his. It was nothing fancy, fiery or overly-exaggerated, yet it must have been one of the most sensitive and heart-warming kisses they had shared up until that point.

“Be aware darling, if you keep rambling like that, I might take you for being a Granger in disguise, instead of a Weasley.” He chuckled and kissed her nose, “With that being said, I would love to stay with you until we figure out how to… Move forward with this? figure out how to live? How to function?” She looked down to the bottom of his jumper where she unintentionally had started fiddling with the seam. “I can’t promise I’m going to be easy to be around after being on my own for so long… But I will promise to try. I’ll try for you. For us.”

George hugged her closer and kissed the top of her hair, “I know love. I’ll try too. We’re gonna figure it out.”

A small cough from the door brought their attention to the fact that they were no longer alone in the room. “You guys need another moment? I can put the food on the table and come back later.” Harry said, smiling at them.

“No, it’s fine Harry.“ Hermione said smiling, while George went to the table to make room for their lunches. “We were just talking about my living arrangements once I’ll be released from here.”

“Oh. What did you agree on?” Harry said while he served each person their plate of food.

“I’ll be staying with George until we figure out what to do. It may end with me staying at the burrow for some time or at your place if you’ll have me, and if it doesn’t work out at George’s. But it will pretty much be touch and go. I’m not entirely sure how I’ll manage being around people again… But I guess the only way of knowing, is trying.” She shrugged and sat down at the table, removing the cling film from what smelled like curry.

Harry smiled at her, “You’ll always be welcome at our place, but I think it sounds like a good solution. We’ll see what else is going to happen after that, what with everything else going on as well. But I think some sort of stability would be pretty good.”

“How did you feel about getting some visitors later? Too many people might wake the suspicions of the press in the hall downstairs, but I know from personal experience that a certain couple of redheads are slowly trying not to get arrested for killing, wanting to give you a hug.” Harry said while laughing to himself.

“Gin and Ron?” Hermione asked after swallowing her food.

“Gin and Ron.” Harry agreed, “The others don’t know anything more than the press knows, as far as I’m concerned, and I plan on keeping it that way as this is still an open investigation. They do miss you, though”

“I know they do… I miss them too, all of them. But I’m fine with Gin and Ron coming by later. Then maybe I can go see the others once I’ve settled in at George’s? Not like a big welcoming-home-party! But hanging out and digging into some of Molly’s home cooking it is literally all my stomach has craved for months.” She deadpanned and laughed at her own words as her not-yet-satisfied-stomach growled it’s need for attention once again.

“You didn’t miss my cooking?” Harry asked offhandedly.

“As far as I remember Harry, you are probably the worst cook I have ever met - and let me just remind you. I’ve met Ron.” Hermione answered before taking a spoonful of her food.

She was interrupted by George, though. Who had snorted half of what was in his mouth, out on the table, just to start laughing so hard that Hermione was beginning to question whether he was actually breathing, or not. When he began coughing between the laughs, she started patting him on the back, “There, there. Don’t worry, I’m sure dear Ronald, has moved beyond the food-poisoning-stage since the last time he tried serving me ‘his special chicken roast’. I’m not sure what was more horrendous about it, really. The week I spent in bed recovering afterwards, or the fact that he tried to apologize by proposing.”

George snorted another mouthful of food out before pushing away from the table and throwing his arms into the air in a resigning matter. “He did what? As hilarious as this sounds, I need to know - for purely academic reasons of course. When did he propose exactly, and how is he still alive? What potion did he take beforehand?”

Hermione wandlessly and non-verbally cleaned up his mess, with a swish of her wrist. Her brows furrowed in surprise. huh… It’s been a while since that actually worked, she thought to herself. “It happened during the summer after the war. I just thought he was proposing ‘just to do it’ and I didn’t really put much thought into it. We laughed a bit at the aesthetics, and talked about how it probably wouldn’t work. The next day I talked to Minerva about going back to Hogwarts.” She shrugged offhandedly. “It wasn’t really a big thing. Sorry to ruin the big secret, love.” She winked at him.

George’s arms had been flaring around in the air like he was praying for a miracle from a god that he probably didn’t even know much about, now fell to his sides while he groaned in obvious exaggerated frustration. The result was Harry bending over, clutching his stomach as he removed silent tears from his eyes and gasping for air.

“Merlin, I wish I’d known about your relationship before all of this. Be still my beating heart, I can’t take it.” He laughed.

“You guys are weird.” Hermione smiled, and finished her food.

…..

“Right, I think we’ll try something different then I originally planned. You mentioned ‘black spots’ earlier. Is there anything new coming to mind?” Harry said, looking up at Malfoy to see if it could be the right direction to take. When he nodded his head slightly, Harry took it as enough confirmation to keep going. “Close your eyes for me, and try to remember.”

“The first thing that comes to mind is Flora. I think I know who she is.” She said as she tried to remember, but stopped short when she felt something wrong. “Stop doing that, you won’t get in.” She said to no one in particular.

“You’re getting stronger. You didn’t sense or fight me off earlier.” Malfoy said, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed and a satisfied smirk on his face, “That is definitely good news. Keep going Potter.” He said offhandedly and reached out for his own notebook.

“She was one of the twins in ‘The Slug Club’ remember? I think they were there because of some well-known-uncle.”

“I remember her, but not from the slug club. Her uncle and aunt were the Carrows that helped run Hogwarts while Snape was headmaster. Perhaps Amycus was exceptionally good at potions or something like that, for her and Hestia to get into the club, I’m not really sure. But you are right, Flora was there. She was one of the persons apprehended at the cabin that she, by the way, owned with Marcus Flint.”

“I **knew** something was wrong with that woman!” Hermione said triumphant in a low voice. “I felt it the second he started talking about her.”

“Well, the intuition of Hermione Granger has never failed.” Harry winked at her.

She sat silently for a while, thinking. “Then why, didn’t I feel anything wrong with Liam? When it was so obvious with Flora.” She couldn’t wrap her mind about it.

“Liam?” Harry asked, and looked around to see if the name hit any buttons with anyone else in the room. They all looked blank. “Who’s Liam?”

“He was the guy you fought at the end, who ran. He ‘worked’ at a swimming pool in Hamburg where he once let my swim some laps and use the showers, free. He was also in Flora’s cabin. I think he - he stalked me! You! All of you…” She felt a warm hand at her cheek, and relaxed a bit into it. “I’m so sorry…” She whispered.

“Auch - Really, Granger. Wandless magic?” Malfoy said, caressing the part on his arm where her stinging hex had hit him.

“I told you to stop. That was a warning. I won’t tell you again.” She said, her voice shaking from emotion but the intention was clear. Back off.

“Stupid git...Don’t be sorry, love.” George said while caressing her cheek, and eyeing the blond. “We chose this side of the war, and we chose to be your family. No one can make us do anything, and now it’s their turn to be hunted.” There was a distinct tone to his voice that she had rarely heard, even before the war had really begun. George was angry. Really, fucking, angry. “What else do you remember?”

“Nothing ‘old’, I think. I’m not sure I’ve ever met him before actually… But he was in the cabin with the others, and seemed to be some kind of leader. Though… They mentioned ‘the old man’ and I’m quite sure it’s Greyback they were referring to. But they also talked about someone named ‘Dario’ who ‘liked them alive and conscious’, (she shivered in obvious distaste) and I’m not sure if that is someone I’m supposed to remember or not. I feel like him and Greyback are connected somehow, but I’m not sure how.”

“But that’s good! It gives us some insight as to how many people are involved.” He opened his notebook on another page and tapped it with his wand, tiny scripples coming forth instantly. “We knew there was a main stalker, supposedly, Greyback. Then there’s the Dario-guy that they spoke of in the cabin, and finally Liam. To me, those seem like the important people in this situation, but that still leaves us with the sidekicks and their involvement. This seems bigger than we thought at first…” He started caressing the lightning-shaped scar, lost in thought.

“Based on…?” George started, trying to restart Harry’s thought-process.

“We found the basement with all of the pictures. He kept track of each and every person who might have had something to do with Hermione - including her. Everywhere she went, someone was right behind her. I think there are four possible situations here; first one being that you have had three stalkers all this time, but that they behaved in three completely different ways which made it look like there was only one. Second; There were people located on multiple locations around the world using the locator in you, to track you. Third one being that Liam is the only one who has been tracking and stalking you, keeping you on the run for so long and putting the tracker in you. Or, lastly; Dario and Liam are the same person, but the others don’t know that.” Harry looked around at the others, checking to see if they understood what he was saying.

“I’m happy to tell you that you are wrong in option number three and four, Harry.” Hermione said slowly, but then continued more certain, “regarding the part where Liam is the only stalker, you are wrong. I watched Greyback kill my parents after pushing them for answers about my whereabouts. He is sure as hell, hunting me.” she stood from the bed and went to the table where they had eaten earlier, grabbed her bottle of water, and emptied it before continuing.

“As for the fourth theory, the more I think about it, the more I’m sure that I have never met Liam until that day by the pools. Sure, he seemed friendly and kind, but he was the kind of person that I’m absolutely sure I would have remembered.” She leaned against the table and crossed her arms over her chest. “Dario, on the other hand, he... He was definitely at the Manor, in the dungeon, with me. But he… He -” She choked up and spent a couple of seconds staring at something on the floor, before breathing out and closing her eyes. Steeling herself. “He didn’t just talk to me. He behaved like he really wasn’t supposed to be in there with me, yet he spoke to me like he was the only one allowed, like it was just a matter of time before he’d have me. Like he owned me… Like I was some kind of slave just made for him… He talked for what feels like hours about hurting me, marking me, killing me, impregnating me... It was like he wasn’t sure what exactly he wanted, except that he wanted it to be me. Which is why I’ll never be able to forget either his voice, nor his hideous colog-” She looked up at Harry instantly, when she realized that she remembered something vital. “His god, damned, cologne! I remember Greyback coming into my cell the next day, but he never got around to hurting me. The second the door opened he started sniffing around the room, then growled loudly and left with the door hammering shut after him. That was the last time I saw anyone before we escaped some days later.” She stopped talking and leaned one hand back on the table, while the back of the other hand went to cover her mouth.

“Are you okay-” George started, but was silenced by her lifting her index finger into the air, and turning around rushing towards the loo. They heard her wrenching almost instantly, and didn’t question it when she came back into the room some minutes later. She just went to the bed, and sat down with her hands in her lap.

“Granger, I know you told me to stop, but I need you to show me Dario.” Draco said slowly, as all eyes in the room turned to him.

“I can’t… I don’t want to hear him again…” She said quietly, tears threading to spill from her eyes at the close proximity of the memory, even though she had just told them about it. “Please don’t make me.”

“I’m sorry, but I have to hear his voice. I have an idea, but I really need to know. I really, really need to know.”

“I - How sure are you?” She asked.

“I need two confirmations to support each other, and you hold one of them. I won’t know without your consent.”

“Fine. Give me the bloody bucket again, I have a feeling I’m going to need it... Again.” She growled. Out of the corner of her eye she saw George sitting down heavily on a chair, his head in his hands.

“George?” She asked gently. When he raised his eyes to hers and she knew she had his full attention, she continued. “If it’s too much for you right now, you don’t have to stay.” When he didn’t reply to her and just stared at her with those beautiful, blue eyes, she tried again. “Do you hear me? You don’t have to push yourself down to keep me up.”

He raised from the chair and went to her bed, where he hugged her to his chest, kissing the top of her hair. “I don’t want to leave you…” He whispered.

“But you can sweetheart, I’m not going anywhere, and we’re got all these people - including the ferret - to make sure I don’t run off with strangers offering me chocolate. And yes, I am sure.” She said and snuggled closer.

“If you insist, Curly, I’ll be back later with dinner. But don’t you dare sneak off with strangers - I’ll be bringing you that chocolate!” He smiled and kissed her once again, before picking up his jacket. “fellas, Doc, I’ll be seeing you at another time.” He lifted his imaginary hat in farewell and left.

“Great, now that the entire room has been sugar-coated - let’s get started.” Draco said with fake malice in his voice. So, he does have a soft side, Hermione thought happily to herself.

She sat back against her pillow with the bucket in front of her, as Draco told her to relax and open her mind. “Just think of the memory that you want to show me, and I’ll do the rest. I won’t poke further than that, I promise.” Hermione looked up at him, steeling herself emotionally as he whispered the spell.

….

_Darkness hit him first. Utter and complete darkness. She might as well have been in their dungeons as anywhere else, there really was no telling at this point. It was cold in there as well, too cold for the supposedly warm spring-weather he knew would be happening outside of the cell. Well, ‘knew’ was saying too much as he couldn’t possibly tell what time of day it was._

_Why were there no windows in here? All the cellars had windows._

_Then he heard her - the ragged breathing, the whimpers, the small coughs. He couldn’t tell if it was his healer training kicking in, or the fact that he knew some parts of what was coming. But he reached out in the direction he believed she was in wanting to help her, to save her. It was then that he remembered that she wouldn’t know he was in there, and he wouldn’t be able to do anything but listen and try to take as much in as possible. More than likely, he would never be given this opportunity again._

_When the door opened, he could have sworn his heart stopped beating. He saw Hermione laying naked in a corner, chained by the neck to the wall. Her hands coming up to cover her eyes as the subtle light from the hall momentarily blinded her. Just as the door clicked shut and he tore his eyes from her beaten up body to give her some sort of privacy, he saw the window far above her head._

_The smell hit him next, and at that moment he knew exactly why Hermione would never be able to forget it. It was incredibly distinct, and at that point he had a strong suspicion about the company this stranger hung out with. The man walked slowly in Hermione’s direction, his breathing strained. His steps small, like he with his feet were feeling his way forward. Maybe he wasn’t used to the strange darkness? Or was it the dungeons that were unfamiliar?_

_He could no longer hear Hermione, though. Good girl._

_Then he heard the ‘thud’ when his boot hit something soft. “There you are, little bird.”_

  
_Silence._

_Then the sound of another thud followed instantly by a scream. It wasn’t like the screams he would hear coming from her in mere days when Bellatrix would torture her, but it was damn near close. She was gasping for air, and Draco guessed that he must have kicked her in the ribs or stomach._

_“Fuck you”, he whispered at the stranger who couldn’t hear him or even know that he was present._

_The sound of shackles rustling reminded him that they weren’t done yet. A sloppy sound and then he hissed. Did she just... bite him? Kick him back? Please tell me you kneed his balls. He snickered to himself. Obviously, Hermione was no way near done fighting back._

_Her shackles rustled again and she groaned in pain._

_“You’re mine, and I’ll take you if I bloody well want to. I’ll make damn well sure, that if you ever get out of this hole alive, that I’ll find you. I’ll always find you. You belong, to me.” He whispered the last part, and again some sort of sloppy sound. Draco couldn’t tell if he was kissing or licking her, but he had goosebumps all over his body non the less._

_He heard a loud thud once again, yet louder than the other times, and she sounded like she once again lost all the air in her lungs. But there was no sound of her hitting the ground. Was he holding her against the wall?_

_“If I can’t have you, no one else will. I’ll kill everyone you love!”_

_“No, no no no... Please! please, I’ll do anything. Just don’t hurt them.” She gasped out, “Please, just don’t hurt them….”_

_“Oh, you better. You’re mine.” Another thud, followed by a slithering sound. Probably her sliding down the wall._

_He muttered something too low for Draco to hear and left a few seconds later. When Hermione started crying softly, he left. There was no need to humiliate her any further._

…

The reaction was instantaneous once he was back in the hospital room. Hermione emptied her stomach for whatever was left in there, and he spent a couple of minutes with his head in his eyes, sitting at the side of the bed. Merlin, he hoped he never had to endure a memory like that again. Ever.

“I have to go, try to get some sleep, Granger. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He picked up his notebook and lab coat, and left through the door. Hermione succumbed to sleep mere minutes later.


End file.
